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Post by Ro on Jun 18, 2008 9:35:49 GMT -5
VCW's very first pay-per-view, Crimson Dawn, comes to you from the Superdome in New Orleans, Louisiana. Tonight, blood feuds will both be settled and begun, and two kings shall be crowned - only those who are worthy enough to stand tall amidst the chaos and the bloodshed shall be victorious.
The Professor will put the Raver to the ultimate test; a test of utmost patience. Who can outlast his opponent?
Six men, six pools of blood, one title - and a ticking clock. Who will be the last man standing at the stroke of midnight, and become the very first VCW Sanguine Champion?
Three men are given one chance to prove themselves amidst wild fans and doubting peers. Whoever wins gets a shot at the Sanguine Championship at 2.1 - who will rise to the challenge?
Drew Michaels has finally given up his brief ruse as the evil Exodus - angering Craig Christ in the process. Will the mystery Misfit catch Drew off-guard and get the better of him, or can Drew overcome the odds and beat Christ in his own game?
Another Craig Christ tale - Romeo McCoy has complained of being continually held down by the General Manager. This is McCoy's time to prove himself; can he score a win for his own integrity, or will Christ continue to walk all over him?
Four men have fought their way to get to the summit of VCW, and one last step remains in their path. No one can be trusted and no one can be bought. Each man has the same goal - to become the first VCW World Heavyweight Champion. Who will pull through to gain his crowning moment?VCW presents Crimson Dawn from the Louisiana Superdome in New Orleans, LouisianaBmore vs. Bright Minutes to Midnight Match for the VCW Sanguine ChampionshipAndrew Carpenter vs. Anon Ehmus vs. Cain Ravid vs. Chris Austin vs. Gregory Best vs. Mortus *Triple Threat MatchCaptain Courage vs. iSav vs. the Great Nodnarb *Mystery Misfit ChallengeDrew Michaels vs. Random Misfit *Craig Christ vs. Romeo McCoy Fatal Fourway Match for the VCW World Heavyweight ChampionshipEric Ares vs. Sir Feyd Brisbane vs. Magnum vs. Thomas Hookton * - Whoever possesses the title at the end of the match is the champion. The title can change hands by first blood, then by pinfall or submission.
* - Whoever wins the match will be the new #1 contender for the Sanguine Championship and will receive a championship match at VCW Live 2.1.
* - The mystery Misfit has the option of revealing his identity in his promo.PROMO ONLY until Friday, June 27 11:59 PM PST. VOTING AND PROMO until Sunday, June 29 11:59 PM PST.
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Cain Ravid
Lower Midcarder
"Not so; if anyone kills Cain, he will suffer vengeance seven times over."
Posts: 106
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Post by Cain Ravid on Jun 19, 2008 1:45:19 GMT -5
Rachel turned the bottle of emerald green Aloe Vera upside down and squirted a large mound of the goop into the palm of her left hand. She snapped the cap shut on the plastic bottle and sat it down. She rubbed her two hands together tenderly, then place them on both sides of Cain’s face.
Cain winced as the coolness of her palms came into the contact with the red, burnt flesh of his face.Rachel: Quit being a baby. It’s only a first degree burn. It’s like you have sunburn. You’ll live. Cain: That’s more than I can say about Andrew Carpenter come Crimson Dawn. Rachel rolled her eyes and nodded. She and Cain hadn’t really spoken much since he “saved” her from Rosebudd the Pimp. He had been too busy dealing with his brother Andrew to really pay her any mind. In a way she liked it like that. It made her job that much easier.
She was to watch Cain, help him succeed in his mission to capture a title in Vendetta Championship Wrestling. She had been reporting to Andrew, via phone, every evening. Andrew seemed especially interested in if Cain seemed to be purposefully disobeying his orders. She had seen none of that.
She didn’t understand the world of professional wrestling and all the supposed pageantry of the sport was lost on her. All she knew was that as growing up as a girl in Iowa her brothers would perform various pro-wrestling moves on each other in their family’s barn. She could recall one time in particular when her oldest brother Brian leapt off the hayloft and onto her younger brother Stephen with what Brian referred to as a “Macho Man Elbow.” Brian broke his arm in three places.
Rachel didn’t know any of the holds or moves. She didn’t know the names of any of the big stars or legends. She barely understood the rules. It seemed to her sometimes it was okay to hit with a chair, other times it wasn’t. Sometimes it seemed two guys could wrestle outside the ring for an eternity and never get counted out, still other times the referee seemed to count to ten faster than she had ever seen before.
The whole scene confused her, so she remained focused on her task at hand, watching and reporting on Cain Ravid.
Rachel instantly became uncomfortable with the silence and she searched her brains for a topic to break the silence but she couldn’t seem to find the right one. Finally, she remembered the conversation they had had just before Cain’s match at 1.4.Rachel: Tell me about you and Andrew. Cain opened his dark brown eyes. Almost black eyes, Rachel thought. And for no apparent reason Black as Death, followed it.Cain: What? Rachel stepped back from the table wiped the slimy goop on her hands on the front of her skin tight blue jeans. She turned and walked to the locker with his name on it.Rachel: Tell me about you and your brother, Andrew. She heard him slid slowly off the table and approached her. He brushed past her and a presence of coldness followed him. It gave her gooseflesh all up and down her arm. He swung open his locker then unbuttoned the button on his jeans. He glanced back over his shoulder at her, his eyes somehow piercing through that long sweaty mange of black hair that dangled in front of his face.Cain: What do you want to know? His head turned away from her again and before she could answer he had unzipped his fly and his pants feel to a heap around his ankles. She was taken back when she saw he had no underwear on underneath his jeans and now stood before her completely nude. She stammered, trying to remember what exactly he had asked her.Rachel: Du-Du-Du… When the words didn’t come, Cain looked back over his shoulder at her. His expression was now filled with annoyance, and this embarrassed Rachel.Cain: Does this bother you? Because I need to shower, and if you want to talk then you’ll have to put up with it. If not, then you can wait outside. Besides, you were a whore, I’m sure you’ve seen more than your fair share of swinging dicks. So cold, Rachel thought. So fucking cold. She shook her head, and turned around so her back was to him.Rachel: No, no. I’m fine. Just you know, why don’t you…uh….tell me about your childhood or something. Your parents maybe? Cain reached into the top shelf of the locker and grabbed a white bar of soap. He snatched a towel off the hook of the locker and slung it over his shoulder.Cain: My parents…my parents were assholes. They sent me away when I was very young…too young. Rachel: What’d you do? Cain: I survived. Did what I had to. Rachel: No, I mean to get kicked out of your parent’s house. Cain: I don’t like this topic. There was almost a sound of hurt in his voice. This startled Rachel, since Cain so rarely displayed any emotion at all. She heard his locker slam shut and spun around just in time to catch a glimpse of him striding into the showering area. She walked quickly after him, stopping just short of the tiled floor. She heard him turn a squeaky shower knob and the sound of water spraying onto the tiled floor.Rachel: Maybe we should talk about this. You know, maybe it’ll be good for you. To tell someone. Besides if we’re are going to be working together, I think… Instantly he was upon her. She hadn’t even heard him approaching. Water was dripping from every part of his naked body. His hair was matted to his head, and streams of water trickled down light brown forehead, over his eyebrows and nose, and fell onto the floor below.Cain: I think, maybe you should go. Rachel stepped back, both because his approach had been so rapid her instincts forced her to take a step back and because the rage in his eyes scared her.Rachel: W-W-What? You mean wait outside? Cain: I mean get the fuck out of my life. I don’t want to talk to you about my problems. You are a whore. You are nothing to me. You are simply eye candy that I was FORCED to drag around. But your usefulness has long expired. Rachel: But-But-But what about Crimson Dawn? Cain: What about it? You think I need help from YOU to win the Sanguine Title? I’m in a match with some of the lowest talent this company has. Mortus…Anon Ehmus…that stupid soccer player! HA! I take shits more talented than them. And what the fuck would you do anyway? He began to slowly walk toward her. She backed steadily away, always keeping her eyes upon him. An overwhelming sense of fear built in her. Somewhere in her mind she knew eventually she would back into the wall, then she would have nowhere else to go. What would he do to her? Kill her, like he did so many before her?Cain: What would a slut like you do? Show your big fake titties? Maybe lay down and spread your legs to show that disease ridden wasteland you used to suck money out of so many men? This was too much. She wasn’t a whore. She had only been playing the part Andrew told her too in order to get close to Cain. She had only been following orders from this man’s own brother and now it looked like Cain was going to kill her for it. Her back slammed hard against the wall. He hands crawled through the air around her searching for something, anything she could use as a weapon to stomp this maniacs approach.
She found nothing.
Cain was right on top of her now. His soapy hand shot out and his fingers wrapped around her throat. She gasped, but no air entered. It couldn’t enter, he was squeezing her windpipe shut. She reached up and dug her nails into his forearm. She felt the flesh tearing under her fingernails, but the pressure did not ease.Cain: Maybe I should just throw you to Chris Austin and let him rape that filthy hole between your legs. Or maybe let Andrew Carpenter use you as his next human candle. Would you like that slut? Tell me…would you, whore? Rachel felt Cain’s gripped loosen around her throat ever so slightly. Just enough to allow her to take in a gasp of breath and then scream out.Rachel: I’M NOT A WHORE! Cain didn’t move. His grip neither tightened nor loosed. She took advantage of this to continue to speak.Rachel: It was all a setup! All a scheme! By Andrew! He wanted me to watch you! Report back! A pause and then Cain released her throat. Rachel fell back against the wall and slid down, slumping on the floor. Her hands went to her throat, attempting to rub the pain away. She took rapid shallow breaths. Her eyes watered.Cain: I’m glad you finally decided to tell me the truth. Honesty is, after all, the best policy. She looked up at her, feebly. She wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her left hand. He was standing over her. In his left hand, the hand he HADN’T used to choke her he was holding the bar of soap. His hairy legs were frothy and soap covered. Water was still dripping off his body. If he hadn’t just tried to kill her, she probably would have laughed and told him he looked ridiculous.Rachel: He said if I told you…*gasp for air*….he’d kill me. Cain: And what made you think I wouldn’t kill you if I found out? And trust me, I ALWAYS find out. She shook her head not having an answer. She just wanted to stand up and get out of here. Wanted to be done with the two crazy brothers. Cain: But since you were so honest…. She could almost see the sarcasm dripping off that last sentence.Cain: You can stay. He turned and started toward the showers. Rachel was in shock. I can stay! I can stay!Rachel: Why the fuck would I want to stay?! She had managed to regain some semblance of a normal breathing pattern again and she slowly pushed himself back to her feet. Cain stopped and turned back around to face her. For a moment, she thought he was going to charge toward her again and wrapped his soap hand around her throat. Only this time he would finish the job. He would kill her and stuff her in one of these lockers for someone to find her weeks later when the next show came to town. But he didn’t and she was relieved.Cain: Because if you leave, Andrew will get suspicious. They he will search for you and no matter what rock you crawl under, he WILL find you. He’s good at that stuff, maybe even better than me. Trust me, you will want to stay. All this swam around inside her head. Cain. Andrew. What had she gotten herself into? She was hired to do a job and now the whole thing was becoming something else. IT was turning into a huge, ugly monster that she wanted no part of but somehow, had become the main portion.
Cain turned and started for the showers again.Cain: Get cleaned up, when we’re done here, I’ll tell you everything you need to know. ----------------------- There he was again, in the same dark office, looking into the same shadow that rested behind the same dark oak desk. The same fireplace was burning to his left and the same feeling of dread filled every square inch of his body.
Andrew stood just inside the door of the office in a position know to all military men as “at attention.” His palms were sweating so heavily he had to wipe them off occasionally on his khaki shorts in hopes to avoid dripping anything on the hardwood flooring.
Now that would be bad, he thought. A regular fucking death wish.
As usual during one of these meetings, it began with a long silence in which Andrew wasn’t sure if anyone shared the room with him at all.
He likes to see you sweat, he thought to himself standing there. He likes to see your nerves. He can smell your fear.
Finally, the voice spoke in that dry, cracking, raspy sound that it always seemed to have.Voice: He knows Andrew. He also likes to do this, Andrew thought. Play like mind games. He likes to fuck with your brain and try to throw you off. Andrew had no choice but to play along. It was the role he had accepted all those years ago, in that cave when he sold his freedom…his very soul…to be perfect.Andrew: What’s that sir? Voice: Cain knows. Again silence. Andrew knew that the voice wanted him to ask another question, wanted him to play into his game. He was setting Andrew up, he knew that but could do nothing about it.Andrew: Knows what sir? Voice: He knows about the fucking girl, Andrew. The cat’s out of the fucking bag. He knows she was…is…a spy. Andrew suspected this would happen. Cain was smart. When the girl latched herself onto him, he must have instantly suspected something was up. Andrew had hoped he would ignore it, just let it go, but not Cain. Cain could never just let things go.Voice: What are you going to do about this Andrew? What the fuck did it matter? He thought. You’re just going to tell me to do what you want done anyway. Haven’t we been playing this game long enough? How many years had it been? His thoughts paused. Too many.Andrew: I’ll handle her sir. I’ll make sure she doesn’t live to tell anybody, anything else. There was another pause. Andrew hoped this was it, that they were done here. But deep down in his gut, he knew it wouldn’t be that simple.Voice: But then Cain would know we were onto him…that WE knew he knew. And that would only drive him farther from us, wouldn’t it Andrew. FUCK YOU, YOU CREEPY SONOAVBITCH! Andrew yelled inside his head. He would never say this aloud. Good Lord no, never. Instead he bit his tongue and talked through clenched teeth.Andrew: Yes sir. Of course sir. I won’t do anything sir. Voice: You know Andrew… And here it came. The grand finale. What that bastard had been working towards since Andrew stepped into the office. The big zinger that would enrage Andrew right to his core and drive him to the brink of madness. That same thing would fill this evil incarnate with joy, pride, and ecstasy.Voice: …that seems to be the one thing you’ve been doing to perfection as of late. A whole lot of nothing…wouldn’t you agree? FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING SON OF A FUCKING FUCK! Andrew yelled to himself. This time he bit so hard on his tongue, blood flowed freely into his mouth.Andrew: Yes sir, I would. Voice: Well why don’t you try and fix that, before I have to fix you. Got it? Andrew: Yes sir. Voice: Good. Now get the fuck out of here and don’t come back unless you have some good news for me, maybe like a Sanguine Title. Andrew didn’t even hesitate, he spun on his heels and exited the office immediately. And no matter how much he wanted to slam that against its frame as he shut it…he made sure that it slowly clicked into place.----------------------- No words were exchanged between them since they left the arena. They had ridden to the airport in the back of a taxi in silence, they had rented the car together in silence, and they had traveled the first hundred miles of their trip to the next arena in silence.
Rachel was driving, as usual. This seemed to be the only task that Cain really depended on her for since they met. It wasn’t that he couldn’t drive, it’s that he didn’t like to. He also didn’t like to fly in planes, or rides trains, or ride buses. So the only way he was going to be getting from show to show was in a car, and it had become Rachel’s responsibility to drive said automobile.
Finally, Rachel decided that she deserved some information from Cain. He had damn near killed her, and the least he could do was entertain her now with his background story. She had earned that much. She also decided that he wasn’t going to just open up and start talking. She would have to ask for, pry it out of him. So, she did.Rachel: So…you were going to tell me what you felt I needed to know. Cain: Not what I felt you needed to know, it IS what you need to know. If we are going to function as a team, we need know a little about each other. Rachel: Agreed. Do you want me to start or… Cain: Not necessary. You’re ex-CIA…or FBI, something along those lines, right? Rachel was a little shocked. Had she been that transparent?Rachel: CSIS…Canadian- Cain: -Security Intelligence Service. Yeah I know what it stands for. Cain shakes his head and chuckles.Cain: Eric Ares is Canadian, fucking canucks, hate’em all. Anyway, you probably came down here to the states and transitioned into the private sector in hopes of making some more money. Didn’t really work out for you because it seemed people were most interested in your tits than your credentials, and wouldn’t ever take you seriously. Then one day you get a call from Andrew, he tells you he wants to interview you for a huge job. Offers you suitcases of cash. Enough cash to make you drool more than Colt Conrad and make your panties wetter than Niagara Falls. How could you resist? So you take the job, give Rosebudd some sob story so he takes you under his wing, hell you might have even had to fuck him a couple times… Rachel shivers as she remembers that pimp pumping and sweating over top of her. She could still see his gold teeth catching the tiny bit of light in the room and gleaming.Cain:…then you kill off that other bimbo Andrew had hired, and you were in like Flynn. That about right? Rachel nodded her head. Another pause.Rachel: What about you? What should I know about you? Other than you have one fucked up family. Cain laughed at this, and it calmed Rachel a bit. She had naturally been on edge ever since the locker room incident. Now, after a hundred plus miles under her belt, she was just beginning to relax.Cain: All you really need to know, is that Andrew isn’t all he seems to be. Rachel: Huh? Well, what is he? A knowing smirk curled across Cain’s lips.Cain: He’s my brother, that’s for sure. But not the same one I grew up with. Not the one I like to remember. No, that one is lost forever I’m afraid. It’s was replaced by this new Andrew. Rachel: What happened? Why did he change? Cain hesitated and for a moment, Rachel was afraid he wasn’t going to answer and that they would ride the rest of the way in complete silence. But he finally did and the conversation continued.Cain: He met a man. He met a man and that men changed him…he DID things to him. Rachel gnarled her face.Rachel: Like molest him? Again Cain smirked and shook his head.Cain: No, not molest him. Just…altered his soul. He wasn’t the same after that. He was faster, stronger, taller…yet…he was also emptier. There was no longer a shine in his eye, no longer love in his heart. He seemed…hollow. Again, silence enveloped the cabin of the car. Rachel had to once again be the one to break it.Rachel: Well what’d he do to him? Cain: I don’t know. Changed him somehow but how exactly I couldn’t tell you. But the way it happened isn’t important. It’s the fact that it happened and that Andrew can NOT be trusted is what’s important. He’s laughable, he’s lovable, he has a magnetic personality…at times he seems to be everything I’m not…but trust me when I say that he’s only like that so he can draw you in. That way he doesn’t have to reach as far when he stabs that knife in your back. Rachel found this almost humorous considering the ring she knew Cain was capable of, and she didn’t let the moment pass without bringing it up.Rachel: Are you really any different? Do you kill people for a living? Aren’t you a murder, too? Cain dropped his head.Was he ashamed? She thought. She shook the idea away. No, not Cain. Not him. He’s stone cold. Yet…Cain: Yes, I do what I have to do. I do what I have been ORDERED to do. It’s my job, if I don’t do it…then… Rachel: Then what? Cain: I am a slave to the same master you were Rachel. I am a slave to Andrew just the same. This shocked Rachel. Someone a slave to his or her own brother? What? How? She didn’t need to ask, Cain answered willingly.Cain: He sold his soul, Rachel. Promised his soul to an unspeakable even in order to reign over his own brother for all eternity. Rachel’s head was swimming, she had to concentrate extremely hard in order to process this information and maintain their rental car on the road.Rachel: Sold his soul? Eternity? What the hell are you talking about?! Cain: Rachel, you already know our story. It’s practically common knowledge. In fact, I’m surprised no one has figured it out. Rachel: Figured it out? Figured what out? Cain: Rachel…my brother’s name isn’t Andrew Belle. Think about it…Andrew Belle. A.Belle. Rachel, we are the fabled brothers of the Bible. The sons of the first man and woman on Earth. We are Cain and Abel. END CHAPTER 1
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Post by bmore on Jun 19, 2008 12:42:26 GMT -5
Tim “The Toolman” Taylor approaches Bmore’s locker room and knocks twice without getting an answer so he proceeds to enter as the door is unlocked. Bmore is sitting with his ring attire on, which comprises of a white singlet, black phat pants with fluro blue, green and yellow lines. On his left leg the words “Just Dance” and on his right leg “Mother Fucker”. Bmore also has two sweat bands wrapped around either wrist, the left saying “Bring On” the right “The Dance”. He does not notice the presence of Tim as he is listening to his ipod and in deep thought. After a few seconds he looks up and sees Tim and immediately pulls out his earphones.Bmore: I wasn’t expecting you for awhile Bmore gets up and shakes Tim’s hand. but who cares, I’m ready for you now. Tim: Good to hear, first off congratulations on your impressive debut. Bmore: Thank you, it is always nice to get a win under the belt and I set out and accomplished exactly what I intended to do. Tim: Your first PPV? Are you nervous? Bmore: I may just be a filler on the card but that doesn’t matter, I will continue on my winning ways until a title sits in my hands. This Benjamin Bright is nothing, nothing is known of him but most likely he is just like other whom think that becoming quiet and reclusive because of what they have seen is the way to go. Tim: That similar to what you said about 13 before 1.4. Bmore: 13 wasn’t the only one in this federation to of had a rough childhood; even I had a rough childhood. Yes I may have had a roof over my head but food wasn’t always on the table, that’s how life was in Baltimore living with a junkie for a mother and never knowing nor wanting to know your father. Unlike so many in this world I turned to a lighter side I strove for improvement. We aren’t set to live the life that we were born into we live the life we have chosen. ********************************* Bmore is sitting in his principal’s office sitting next to a counsellor and opposite his principal the room is sub par showing that his school was run down, Bmore is only sixteen years of age at this point.Principal: You are failing pretty bad – Counsellor: Are you having trouble at home – Principal: You may not make it to next year – Counsellor: How is your mother – The questions went on for another thirty minutes, without Bmore even saying a word. Bmore is just slumped in his chair his head resting in one hand.Principal: Well Mr. Harris till next week. Hopefully we can see some improvement on your homework. You have a project due next Friday. Bmore: I know. Bmore picks up his bag but the zip breaks and out falls a whole bunch of wrapped up needles. He freezes then quickly scoops up the needles, both his counsellor and principal stare at him.Bmore: This way I know they are clean. Bmore high tails it out of the office and then out into the street and when he gets out of eye sight from his school he puts on the brakes. Bmore starts to dawdle, walking into records stores then walking out and just walking around in general. No aim to where he is going, eventually the sun begins going down and the streetlights stutter on. He stops outside of his apartment block and it’s a crappy run down concrete building, he ends up in front his front door there is an eviction notice, he rips it down and shoves the door with his shoulder. It doesn’t open, so Bmore kicks it open and enters in and places the eviction notice along with the needles on the kitchen table. Bmore heads to his room and flicks on a light switch, the light stays off. Frustrated he throws his bag down next to his bed and storms to the kitchen and tries to turn the stove on; he clicks the igniters yet no ignition. Bmore kicks the stove in frustration just as he hears a crash as his stoned mother and abusive boyfriend crash through the front door.Mother: Hi honey, what’s for dinner? Bmore: Nothing, we have no gas nor electricity. Bmore walks to his room and underneath his breath says “more ice would help the hunger”. Bmore closes the door behind him and heads to his bed and lifts up his mattress and grabs fifty dollars from a pile of money.Boyfriend: Well, what do we have here? Bmore: Nothing! The boyfriend makes a move to grab the money, but Bmore stands in front. The boyfriend takes a swing but Bmore blocks it and pushes him away, the boyfriend charges in and spears Bmore onto the bed and starts laying into Bmore with lefts and rights, eventually Bmore manages to push him off and then delivers a massive super kick. Bmore stands above the limp body of the boyfriend fists clenched. His walks to the front door with a fat lip and looks back to see his mum passed out on the couch.Bmore is outside now and walking the streets of Baltimore and walks into a pizza shop, where a young man in his twenties is sitting behind the counter.Bmore: What’s up Justin? Justin: Hey! My main man, didn’t think I would see you today. More trouble? Bmore: Yea man, just give me two slices. Justin: Sure thing bro, have it on the house. You gotta get out of their man that mother of yours will one day kill you I swear. Bmore: I know, I had some horrible meeting with the school counsellor today, they talked at me for basically an hour, then needles fell out and all that. Justin: Dude, you ain’t using any of your mums stash are you? Bmore: Nah, I prefer her to stay clean, this way I know where the needles she uses come from, rather than getting HIV from the assholes she sleeps with. Any way man what have you been up to? Justin: Same old bro, keeping this job down pact with lousy pay. Going out enough though man, my weekend is just one continuous high. Dude the music, it just speaks to your body and makes you move, it’s amazing. Bmore: Hah, that’s probably the drugs talking to you. I should join you one day, get an ID or something. Justin: Definitely bro, it would get your mind of your shitty life, even if its just 12 hours, you deserve it. Bmore: Alright mate; I’m off see you around. Justin: Later. Bmore walks out; he begins to head home but unfortunately not enough time as passed so that he doesn’t head up put he keeps moving on. Bmore walks past the homeless people lining the street, all of them asking for money, even one asking for Jesus. Suddenly a man approaches him, Bmore reaches into his pocket and places his hand around a flick knife.Drug Dealer: You seem like a lost soul, we all need to have that pick me up that we all deserve but there is no reason why the ones who have lost their way to not have the basics that make up life. Bmore: No. Drug Dealer: Hey I feel sorry for you kid, I see you around a lot wandering the streets. Therefore I am willing to let the payment of this one slide. All you need to do is hold out your hand and look subtle and the transfer. Bmore: I said no, how do you do it? You destroy life’s why do you think I am a “lost soul” it’s because of people like you who feed off the tragedies of others. So get out of my face, get out of my neighbourhood or else you will have a visit from the police. Got it? Drug Dealer: You do and your family will be dead. Bmore: Hah, people like you have already killed what little family I have, you gave her a fate worse than death. Drug Dealer: Don’t blame me, I don’t force them to come back, it’s their own choice. Bmore at this point has had enough and just walks off bumping the dealer on his way through his hand still clenching his flick knife until he is well away and only then does he release his grip. Bmore eventually finds his way to a park which has become overgrown and the play equipment is now dishevelled and covered in graffiti Bmore sits on the only swing still functioning the entire swing set quivers as he does so. Bmore puts his head in both hands and begins to slowly rock.Bmore: What does this life hold, where does my road lead, what can I possibly become with this start, how can I possibly shake my past to get to a great or even good future? Bmore’s trance of speaking to himself is stopped when a group of ravers enter the playground with a big boom box. The first sign of insanity isn’t speaking to yourself it’s getting caught doing so. The group starts to dance to the tune of “Zombie Nation” Bmore just sits their admiring their set of moves and the way they move without seemingly touching the ground below them. Bmore continues to watch until the clock strikes midnight and he decides that now he can go home.Bmore walks home fast as his neighbourhood takes a drastic turn for the worse come midnight. He gets home to see the door ajar, the flicker of candle light dimly lighting the hall. Bmore enters cautiously.Bmore: Mum? No answer, mum!? Bmore walks into his room, his mattress is thrown off his bed and the pile of cash that once stood there is no longer. Bmore slams his bedroom door shut and hears a slight stir from his mothers room, Bmore rushes in the stench of sex and lost dignity slam into his nostrils. His mum is lying spread eagle naked in the middle of the bed with a needle still in her arm, she is barely breathing and her eyes have rolled back into her head.Bmore: Shit! Bmore rushes to the phone and franticly dials in 911, however there is no answer the phone line has been cut. Bmore picks up the frayed cord.Bmore: Oh God! Bmore rushes to his mothers side and wraps a sheet around her cold body.Bmore: Stay in there mum, for gods sake stay in there! Bmore scoops up his mothers body and puts her arms around his neck, with his mum in hand Bmore rushes out his front door and down the stairs kicking open the front door. He runs frantically into the middle of the road.Bmore: Help! Dial 911! Anyone!?! The street is full of drunks and stoners, no one moves an inch in their way of helping. Bmore looks around for anyone, or anything, a phone box would mean anything to him, the only one he sees has been destroyed for a long time. Suddenly out of pure luck a police car pulls.Bmore: Officer, I need to get her to a hospital, she can’t die like this! Please you must help! Mum! Don’t sleep, stay awake! The officer grabs Bmore’s mum out of his hands and places her into the back of the police car, Bmore follows suit and the police man puts on the sirens and they speed to the closest hospital, where the police officer takes Bmore’s mum into the emergency ward.Triage Nurse: Just another overdose. Hmm what she taken? Bmore: This isn’t just another overdose she has done it before but never this bad! Triage Nurse: What she taken? Bmore: Heroin! Can’t you see the track marks. Triage: Don’t get smart with me kid, she could be on anything. Officer: Please Nurse this boy is distressed, please admit this lady as soon as possible. The Nurse takes the officers words as if they were commandments and admits Bmore’s mum straight away. The officer shakes Bmore’s hand and gives his condolences and then heads back to the squad car. Bmore sits in the waiting room and reads magazine after magazine of dribble and the hours tick by slower and slower. Eventually he summons the courage to go see his mother. He enters and asks for her bed number and then heads in. He sees a doctor looking over her, she has more colour in her skin but overall she still looks like a train wreck.Doctor: What do you think of her? Bmore: Huh?! Doctor: I couldn’t imagine ever living with a drug addict, luckily you kept your head and knew that something was wrong. Don’t think less of her, she probably had a lot of troubled times before and after you were born. Bmore: Doesn’t mean anything, she doesn’t have to do drugs because of what she is. Doctor: But she does, look at yourself you are healthy, it shows how much she cares. She never abused while she was pregnant, those nine months must have been harder that you would ever begin to understand. Bmore: Will she be ok? Doctor: Yes. It’s not her I am worried about though, it’s you who is a major victim of this tragedy. Get out of it, we will send her on a new government scheme to a rehabilitation centre in an effort to get her clean. This could take several months. Do you have a place to stay for this time? Bmore: Yeah I know of somewhere I can go. Doctor: Here is the number and address of where she will be going, visit her call her, your voice could be the difference between winning and losing this battle. Ask for Dr. Waters. Bmore: Thanks. Bmore leaves and while he stands outside he breaks down, he is holding the card of Dr. Waters. His tears rain down on the card. Bmore grabs hold of himself and rips the card up and walks away, his destination is that of the pizza store to see Justin. He arrives and Justin automatically knows what has happened, therefore he cracks open a pepsi bottle and hands it to Bmore.Justin: She OD’d didn’t she? Bmore just nods.Justin: Now what? Bmore: They are sending her to some rehab thing, its “government” apparently. Justin: It’s about time those fat cats above us fixed up this town. Hey, you will need a place to crash for at least tonight. Take my couch, it was probably better than your bed anyway Bmore forces a chuckle. I’m heading out after I finish this so take my keys now, head over, you know my equipment? The keyboards and all that DJ decks? Give them a go, it will make you feel better. Bmore says nothing just grabs the keys and heads out the door.Justin: We will sort this shit out! Bmore continues to walk past all the drunks and junkies all of whom are asking for booze and skipping the middle man of asking for money. Bmore enters Justin’s place the door opens effortlessly and then he switches on the lights. Just for reassurance he turns the stove on and off. Bmore sees the decks in the corner and walks over.Bmore hits that first electronic chord and for once he was in total bliss. [/b][/color] We are now in the present day, Bmore is sitting in his apartment, in the nice sector of Baltimore city. He is watching the last VCW Live, the current scene is when Bright has challenged him to a match. Suddenly there is a knock at the door. Bmore hops up and quickly answers it. There is a man standing there, a man who Bmore has no idea who it is. The man knows he is at the right place by his expression.Bmore: Yes? Dr. Waters: My name is Dr. Waters. You may know me, most likely not. Bmore: It rings a bell, please come in. Dr. Waters: Thank you for your offer but it really is you who should come with me. It is in your best interest to. Bmore knows this man, he knows the name but can’t put his finger on it. The man is not threatening and Bmore hasn’t done anything wrong to anyone so this man isn’t here to settle any outstanding beefs. They head down stairs and get into the doctor’s car.Bmore: Ok, so why do I know your name but not your face. Dr. Waters: For some reason you never came to see what I looked like, I was your mothers counsellor when she entered rehab when you were sixteen, and even after I still counselled her on a regular occasion. Bmore hangs his head in shame; he hadn’t seen his mother since he was sixteen, ever since she turned his life upside down.Bmore: I was angry at her and what she did, I ripped up the card nearly as soon as I got it. I wrote her out of my life, I never bothered trying to find her again. She must of felt the same way. The doctor pulls up the car before a cemetery and hops out and walks in and up a path. Bmore waits a while before curiosity grabs him and runs up to meet up with the doctor, they walk deep in to the cemetery. The pull up to a single grave, the gravestone reads:Krystle Harris. Born: October 12th 1970 Died: June 20th 2008. Her greatest achievement was having a son not like her. [/b] Dr. Waters: She died because she had destroyed her body, but after that night she never touched anything again. She watched your career as a DJ blossom, and she watched you wrestle and win your first match. The thing is she understood why you disowned her, she did love you. Bmore’s eyes are full of tears.Bmore: As did I.
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Post by Mortus on Jun 19, 2008 15:59:47 GMT -5
Kill for gain or shoot to maim, but we dont need a reason! The golden goose is on the loose and never out of season! Some blackened pride still burns inside this shell of bloody treason! Heres my gun for a barrel of fun, for the love of living death! He squirmed, and We took great pleasure in the act. Our last brother, John...
After he was decimated by Our hands at 1.4, We had him kidnapped; nothing special; small street gangs looking for some extra cash; or did they perhaps desire Arcane Protection from their foes in the Street Wars?
We don't recall; they're dead now anyway.The killers breed or the demons seed! The glamour, the fortune, the pain! Go to war again, blood is freedoms stain! But dont you pray for my soul anymore! Two! Minutes! To midnight; the hands that threaten doom! Two! Minutes! To midnight; to kill the unborn in the womb! First the filth from the street dragged a weakened John into the waiting van We had hired, before driving him down to Our current base of opperations;
He was dragged through the barren corridors to Our central chamber; of course Our Wax Work collection was still in Florida, as We had more pressing concerns there, but the cold, abandoned feel of this location was enough to envoke feelings of Our essence in Our brother...The blind men shout, "Let the creatures out! We'll show the unbelievers!" The napalm screams of human flames, of a prime time belsen feast... Yeah! As the reasons for the carnage; cut their meat and lick the gravy! We oil the jaws of the war machine and feed it with our babies! [/color] John was brought before us, and tied down with barbed wire onto the awaiting stone alter. We explained to John why he had to die; and in his Fear, the man resigned himself to his fate without a question.
A pleeful look in his eyes; We suspect he was searching for mercy, or perhaps a last shred of Humanity.
We shed Our humanity long ago...The killers breed or the demons seed! The glamour, the fortune, the pain! Go to war again, blood is freedoms stain! But dont you pray for my soul anymore! Two! Minutes! To midnight; the hands that threaten doom! Two! Minutes! To midnight; to kill the unborn in the womb! The Gangsmen were wooting like rapid animals, swarming around Our brother like Sharks to blood.
Quite frankly, We found this lack of control disgusting; an insult to Our presence...
We clicked Our fingers, a thick red/brown fog started to billow from out of Our robes. And We laughed as the Gangsmen turned, horror found in what they did not understand...The body bags and little rags of children torn in two! And the jellied brains of those who remain to put the finger right on you! As the madmen play on words and make us all dance to their song... To the tune of starving millions to make a better kind of gun! We watched, obviously unaffected, as the Men breathed in the toxic fumes and begin to thrash wildly with mounting aggression towards their fellow man; John himself tore free of his barbed wire bindings at the expense of most of the flesh of his arms and legs...
We wondered if Our victims would appreciate the knowledge that the idea for this little working of Our infinate power had been inspired by something We recalled reading... Rather; something Our host had read not all that long ago.
A fictional disease called Red Horse, created by Trent Renzor for his little advertisement scheme for his Year Zero album.
The disease acted very much Ebola and...
No; they wouldn't appreciate that at all. Not now they're sweating their own blood and tearing into each other at the same time...
If their fellow suffers don't tear them apart before hand... They'll be dead in five minutes...The killers breed or the demons seed! The glamour, the fortune, the pain! Go to war again, blood is freedoms stain! But dont you pray for my soul anymore! Two! Minutes! To midnight; the hands that threaten doom! Two! Minutes! To midnight; to kill the unborn in the womb! Midnight... Midnight... Midnight... It's all night... Midnight! Midnight! Midnight! It's all night! And so We waded out of the building, shattering at least one mans skull against the cast iron walls before he attempted to bring his virally driven assault Our way.
John died first, he just crumpled to the floor as he bit into another the lead Gangsman's jugular.
He collapsed showered in blood, and thus he was no more, which is why We no longer needed to be present.
And that is how We got here; wondering exactly how else we could prepare for a match which held so much value in bloodshed than the draining thirteen men of their lifestream.
In this body; We have never bled, and with excited thoughts as to whether any of Our opponents were capable spilling Our claret, We swept back in the shadows.
There was still business to attend to back in Florida with Our newfound partner Cactus Sam, and We were still not done here; Our great mind had heard the screams of another of Our Kin tearing through the barriers between this plane of existance and those higher...
...And most imporantly... We also had a contract to break before We could have Our fun and personally test Our upcoming opponents...[/i] - - - The scene opens in Craig Christ's office, where of course sits the Owner of Vendetta Championship Wrestling himself. Two, stranger individuals also darken the owners doors however in the form of Mortus and his High Prophet, Abdul Alhazred...Abdul - Now, Mr. Christ; My Master has a... Request... For the lack of a better word...[/color] Craig - Oh, and what might that be?[/color] Abdul - You shall release Sarah White from her contract; My Master is in need of her once more.[/color] Craig - Allow me to humour you for a moment, hypothetically, if I did as was... 'Asked,' how would this benefit myself?[/color] Abdul was cut off pre-emptively by the Lich King placing a hand to his chest,Mortus - You shall do it, otherwise we have a problem. We have usurped companies from under an owners feet before, and We will do it again...[/color] Craig - Is it really in your best interest to threaten me, Mortus?[/color] Mortus - That wasn't a threat...[/color] Craig's smirk was soon wiped from his face as Mortus' hand curled as if he were choking someone; Craig's own hands raised to his neck, as if trying to pry someone loose from his throat as a look of absolute shock set upon his features...Craig - Guh... Wha... Are... You... Doing..?[/color] A flick of the wrist had Craig sprawl to the floor as his chair collapsed beneath him; the strangle hold seemed to be lifted however. Mortus stood over his new employer; a sick grin visible beneath the shadows of his robes.Abdul - I trust that you will be preparing the paperwork for Sarah's new contract as My Masters valet?[/color] Mortus - He'll do it; that is, if he is smart. Remeber, Craig; We are far more powerful than you could ever imagine; in every sense of the word. Come Abdul; Our boss is clearly busy; he has some paperwork to be getting on with...[/color] The dark duo left, leaving a grumbling Christ sprawled across his office floor rubbing at his neck; what may have been a shimmer of fear which tainted his generally arrogant expressions was gone; a look of irritation now plastered across his features as he reached for a contract sheet and pressed a button...Craig - Sheila? Yes. Get someone out there scouting; we're hiring... Sarah's got herself a promotion... We need a new announcer...[/color] The scene faded out as Craig scrawled the new contract for Sarah; visibly angry with himself for caving to an employee's demands; wondering if he could ever fool himself into thinking he was just feeling generous...
By the time the camera returned to Mortus; he was with Sarah; Abdul following behind the pair.
Sarah looked flushed; she trembled constantly; yet, she matched Mortus' stride constantly.Mortus - Now, Sister; as you break down the spiritual and mental blocks that inhibit you from taking full control of your selected host, you will be weakened to a point that you find you cannot communicate with Us. So We are taking you back to Florida to rest both your own energies as well as your hosts physical state... Then We shall discuss things...[/color] Sarah, or rather, the weakened conceptual being that was forcefully possessing her, forced a nod...Abdul - Who is it Master? Which of your ilk seeks to join you in the flesh of your own hosts Lover?[/color] Mortus - We are unsure; We will not know until She is rest...[/color] Something interupted the Lich King, however, the sight of Chris Austin popping into the restroom, of all things...Mortus - Abdul, take Sarah to the airport; We have already arranged flights. We will meet you in Florida. Oh, and throw the dregs of society which dwell in the shadows of Our citadel something to hush their moaning; food, money, drugs; We don't care. Sarah is to have Peace and Quiet until it become apparent which of Our Sisters is coming to join Us on this plane.[/color] Abdul nodded; he knew full well what he was to do; he took Sarah by the arm and lead her away, as Mortus stalked in after Austin... - - -
You were born your brother's keeper, why can I see blood on your hands? You became your brother's slayer, embrace again upon death!
At the end of all this hatred lies even deeper hate! Their darkness has defeated you! Your lifeline running backwards! So I saw that freak Mortus, some Arab bastard and Sarah just outside before I came in to wash my hands.
Fuck me, is Sarah hot; what I'd give to hit that!
From what I've heard down the grapevine; her and Mortus are pretty serious off screen and shit; maybe if I humilate the 'Bitch King' bad enough at Crimson Dawn I've got a shot?
Championship gold and some goddamn pussy....Remember! Sins Of Our Fathers! A Requiem! For The Countless Dead!
Blood is on your hands! The wages of sin! [/color] It's funny; you know. I'm here, just washing my hands in a public restroom just like any other clown; but I wouldn't be here at all if it wasn't for a certain title I've gained myself; that of the 'Rapist.'
I'll tell you, it hurts the sex life; no. Actually, I lied. It doesn't. Just a different way of going about things...Future's eyes closing now, soul eclipse taking place! Laments rise! Tears of the dead! From the other side of the grave!
You were born your brothers keeper, why can I see blood on your hands? Their darkness has defeated you! Your lifeline running backwards! [/color] Shit shit shit! I thought I saw Mortus there behind me; the guys just freaky man. He's already made a few threats against some of the guys lives; mine included!
He was just in the office with Christ and raised a hell of a lot of noise.
But yeah; gun pulled, I span about; no one there but me. Fuck. Mind must be playing tricks on me or something.
I splashed water on my face, gotta calm down. Then my heart beat raced; a hand pressed down on my shoulder... I saw the reflection...
Him!Remember! Sins Of Our Fathers! A Requiem! For The Countless Dead!
Blood is on your hands! The wages of sin! [/color] Blood started to drip down my chest and back from beneath Mortus' hands; not my own; no, I'm sure it wasn't I who was bleeding. I dared not move...
The self proclaimed 'Fear Incarnate' forcefully span me round.Remember! Sins Of Our Fathers! A Requiem! For The Countless Dead!
Blood is on your hands! The wages of sin! [/color] And there was no one there; no sign of any ever being there save for the bloody handprint on my shoulder.
I took a few deep breaths as I turned back round to grab my Gun; can't be leaving that shit laying about...
And what I saw?
Written on the mirror; by someones bloody finger read;We were wrong; We managed to fit in a little fun amongst the work after all. Tell the others Chris; No one is safe. There will be BLOOD. I screamed.[/i]
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Austin
Lower Midcarder
Posts: 172
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Post by Austin on Jun 19, 2008 21:15:10 GMT -5
A man stands outside of unknown house in the back area out of vision from the rest of the neighborhood. It is almost pitch black, with a light rain descending from the clouded sky. He peeks into the window, and finds a wet, naked woman just stepping out of the shower. He puts on his gloves and mask, and begins to speak while drawing a gun.“I can see you.” “Can you see me?” “Of course not, you’re too naive.” “You’re too comfortable. Too happy. Too SANGUINE.” The man begins to peek over the windowsill, and suddenly freezes when he senses the woman look in his direction. She looks on, somewhat concerned, and continues on with the song she was singing to herself.
Rape me Rape me my friend Rape me Rape me again
“Oh, I will. Don’t you worry about that” Meanwhile….. We spy Austin hiding behind a building in the French Quarter. He is out of breath, and darting his head all over the place, as if he’s paranoid.I knew it. I fucking knew it. Someone is following me. Somebody’s watching me. But who? Who would pay any attention to me? I don’t need this now, I don’t need exposure. It destroys my entire M.O. How can I sneak up on my opponents, when someone, anyone could be telling them my every move? How can I execute my plans for each and every one of them, when they know what’s coming? My plan is falling apart. Not this way, not here, not now. Yesterday……“One, two, I’m coming for you,” “Were you expecting someone? It was certainly not me, right.” “That’s always the problem. Society thinks that rapists are the bad guys, that we are cowardly predators that force our will upon each one of our victims. I keep trying to tell them that I don’t pick them. Women ask for what I give them. They should learn to lock their doors at night. They should learn to FEAR, YOU CAN’T SURVIVE WITHOUT IT. What these bitches are doing is the same as playing with FIRE, AND THEY WILL GET BURNED. Any ANONYMOUS person could just walk in, and do as they want. A DRIFTER, commanded by another, could be your next tormentor. Hell, maybe some HOOLIGAN could just show up and break up shit in your home.” “But, I guess that’s why we RAPISTS are in the world. We balance them out. Women learn what FEAR is when they are raped. They learn not to play with “FIRE”, in a figurative sense. They learn not to trust that THEY DON’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT. They learn how dangerous people COMMANDED BY ANOTHER can be. They learn that the HOOLIGAN isn’t the downfall of society, but instead they themselves are.”
I'm not the only one I'm not the only one I'm not the only one I'm not the only one
Hate me Do it and do it again Waste me Rape me my friend
“I know you aren’t, and I do hate what you make me do. But, it must be done, and you will be better for it when I am done with you. They say the majority of victims know their attacker. I am the minority.” Several days ago…Austin is jogging in training for the Minutes to Midnight match at Crimson Dawn.(Cell phone rings) RCA: (running and losing breath) He—Hello? “Where are you heading, Christopher?”RCA: Who…..Who is…this? “Doesn’t matter. By the way, running and talking does not a smooth conversation make.”RCA: (Stops in his tracks, and darts into a closed off area, out of the public eye) How…do…you know what I…..am doing? “Simple. Because We are watching you.”RCA: Why? What have I done? “You are our organization’s responsibility, in fact our chief one.”RCA: I’m just a……average man. I work nine to five every day. “Cut the shit, Chris. We know of your exploits in Vendetta Championship Wrestling. We know you’re not average, we know you’re making quite a name for yourself.”RCA: You don’t know what you’re…talking about. “Don’t I, RAPIST?”RCA: Ares? “That fool? Of course not. Unlike us, he doesn’t give a damn about you. We care because; you are the key to our future.”RCA: Why are you bothering me? I have plans…..personal plans. “We know. That’s why we contacted you.”RCA: Don’t fucking call me back, understand? I have a match to prepare for, a match which will have casualties. “Our call concerns this match of yours. Either you win, or back down now before participating. We do not have time for you misogynist points of view. We do not have time for your heinous treatment of the same women. Unless you are winning, and in turn bringing us money, we will not tolerate any of the rapes you allegedly carry out.”RCA stands, speechless. He has no idea how to respond. He begins to sweat, his breaths grow shorter. He panics.RCA: It’s just a gimmick!!!!! That’s all it is!! Don’t you people know anything about wrestling today? It’s all about the edge, and how much you can peek over it without actually going over. I’m just stirring things up is all. “Really? Answer this, besides being an associate of Hostyle, what do you or anyone know about Anon Ehmus?”RCA: Um…….. “Andrew Carpenter. Outside the ring, he’s always surrounded by fire, correct. Is not his ‘gimmick’ that of a pyromaniac?"RCA: Yeah, but……. “Mortus, Fear personified. What do you think he does all day? Play with kids? I don't think so.”RCA:…… “Gregory Best, the soccer fan ultimate. How does he spend his time outside the ring? Soccer.”RCA: Come on, that’s a given…… “Cain Ravid, the drifter. What about him? He’s never in the same place twice.”RCA: (nervously) What’s your point? “My point is this. When actors study for a role in a movie, they go out and live the role to better prepare them for the role they want. Living the gimmick, I call it. If Best does nothing not including Soccer outside of the ring, and if Anon remains as such out the ring, and if Carpenter is always obsessed with fire, and if Mortus’ life is dependent on fear from others, and if Cain is in and out all the time….WHAT DOES THAT MAKE YOU?”(click) RCA: He’s lying. Or is he? But, who is he? Yesterday…Female: AHHHHHHH!!! “Shut up or you die. I’m the type that likes ‘em alive and kicking, unlike other people.” Female: RAPE!!!!!!!! “Correct answer. Now, to show you what you’ve won….” The masked intruder shoves her into the wall face-first, immediately knocking her out. He places her over his shoulder, and sneaks out of the front door, careful not to be seen. He throws her into the car, and drives off to an old warehouse. He takes her inside, and after walking up some steps and through some rooms, he ties her up by her hands, and gags her mouth. When she comes to, she’s not alone. There are four others, tied just like her.“Welcome to the party….” Log. Our charge looks to be finally turning it on inside the ring. He has defeated one considered worthy of being the top man in VCW. How fitting it was of said man to downplay our charge’s accomplishment, by saying he was not at his best; that he wasn’t trying. Weakling. He is utter, pure filth that doesn’t deserve anything but another beatdown by our charge’s hand, if you ask me.
But, that’s for another time. Now, it’s business time. He is now involved in a six-pack challenge of sorts for a newly created Sanguine Championship. The irony of it is scrumptious. Sanguine means “Happy, Optimistic, Excited”. But, the definition they are referring to is “The color of blood or related to blood”. I hate how ass-backwards some federations can be. Is this supposed to be their idea of the “second-in-command” prize, a supposedly amped-up Hardcore title? Why not U.S. or Intercontinental or Western States Heritage? Hell, maybe the Television or even something unique like C-4, or Abandoned would be nice. But, I’m sure that this belt will prove me wrong in that department, especially if our charge takes it home.
This is our charge’s for the taking. His new “outlook” has him more vicious, crisper, more sudden, and ultimately more violent. It is what we need from him if we are to Dominate. But, that’s enough for now, as I am not trailing him for the time being. I will be fine, as he is being followed, and we know his every move.
Day before Yesterday…..RCA (In Hotel Room outside of the area in which the Superdome is located): Where is it? They planted something on me, where the fuck is it? Where is it? RCA tears apart his room, looking for some sort of tracking device. He finds none.RCA: Fuck this, I got something for their asses. RCA leaves the room….fade to Yesterday…..“I guess you’re wondering what brought you here, to face my wrath. The answer is simple really: You; Each and Every One of you. You are all in my way, in a sense. You all are standing in the way of the one thing I want. That, is the state of SANGUINE. I want happiness. I want to be cheerful. But you bitches won’t let me have it. Your ways have forced me back into what I have never done, but have come oh so close to it. You will learn. You. Will. Learn.” Day before Yesterday….RCA has returned with bags full of stuff. He dumps the contents out, and it is seen that he has bought an all-new wardrobe. However, it is for the most part, all black. He has also bought black hair dye, and a razor.RCA: They can’t keep up with me, if I don’t look like myself anymore. RCA rips off his clothes, and showers. Afterwards, he dyes his hair from the dark brown he was born with to jet black, and slicked back. He shaves the facial hair from his face, and places on the new clothes he has purchased: A medium-long length trenchcoat, a black button-up shirt, and black jeans. He looks in the mirror, pleased with his new look.RCA: Try and follow me now. He grabs his keys and leaves, checking out of the hotel…..back to Yesterday…..“Let’s play a game shall we? I’ll call it, “Minutes to Midnight.” Simple rules for all five of you; from now until a few minutes before my most pressing engagement, I will draw a card from this deck. A black card shows up, you all will be spared. A red card, on the other hand, and you will be punished. The only way to get out of your punishment is by correctly guessing the card that I have pulled. Don’t worry; I’m honest, well as honest as your kidnapper can be. Ha-ha. Let’s begin. And the first pull is a….Red card! Oh this will be fun.” The five women begin to sob as the menacing man in all black walks up to them. He eyes the first woman up and down, twirling a gun in his hand.“Now……You’re up first. I remember seeing you playing soccer in the park a week or two ago. Is it fun? You know, don’t answer that, lately I’ve despised the game. Now, what card did I pull?” Female 1: (Fighting back tears)…….. “Answer me, or suffer regardless.” Female 1: Q-q-q-ueen of……….Hearts? He glances at the card, and smiles. He shows the card to the woman hanging beside the first woman, and the look of horror on her face says it all. The first woman’s eyes grow wide as she realizes that she has gotten the question wrong. She starts to scream…Female 1: AHH--- But a breathtaking blow to the ribs stops that, as the other four captives turn away and cringe in horror and fear, and the first woman nearly blacks out from the pain. A bruise immediately forms, and her breathing becomes a bit labored.“Back to the game. Next Card, is also Red!!!! You(points at Female 2). Did you see me, when I saw you buying a gun from the pawn shop? This particular gun here? (Shows gun). Did you think that this gun made you invincible, as in without fear? Did you think you’d be safe? Well, unless you answer this question correctly, your safety will be put to the test. I’ll even give you a hint: It’s not a face card. Answer, Plox.” Female 2: Please don’t….. “(Cocks gun) Answer the question.” Female 2: 9 of Diamonds? He glances at the card, and shows it to the third female…Female 3: You’re Rig— Who is quickly silenced with a slap to the face, busting open her lip.“It was not your turn. As for you (looks at Female 2), you are correct.” Female 2: Oh Thank Go- He grabs her by the throat.“You’re not out of the woods yet. You will understand that you need Fear to survive when I am done with you. Now, you who wanted to speak out of turn. Next card is….Red. That figures; now as for you. What is your name?” Female 3: Anonymous. “Funny. I guess I am not to know anything about you. But, humor me. What card did I pull?” Female 3: Screw you. “No. You are the one who is screwed.” The ‘BANG!’ of a gun is heard, and a blood-curdling scream follows, as pain has ripped through her quadriceps muscle, and blood starts to stream through her pajama bottoms. Seeing this, the man reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a knife, liquor, a ratty towel and a lighter. He digs the bullet out, uses the lighter to heat the knife, and goes on to cauterize the wound. He then ties the towel around it.“I’ve been shot before, it’s no fun. Bleeding to death isn’t either, especially since I plane for you to leave here alive. Now, who’s next? Ah yes, the homeless one. Why won’t you get your life together? I am sure you have some talent which could gain you some hospitality. You can’t afford to drift through life, waiting for someone to point you in the right direction. As it were, you will understand that provided you leave here. The card is…….Red. What is your guess?” Female 4: 4 of diamonds. He looks at the card, and frowns….“Damn………5 of Diamonds. A shame, really.” He jumps and knees her in the midsection, and she immediately stars coughing up blood.“Last one this round. Lucky number 5. I remember you. You’re a firefighter, correct? I saw you washing the truck with your friends a few days ago. I wonder do you do it to save lives, or because you are fascinated with the enigmatic concept that is flame? I’d bet it’s the latter, some people need to learn from their mistakes, and if they must lose their material possessions, so be it. Now, the next card is……..Red also. Guess.” Female 5: Jack of Hearts. “(looks at card) Yes, it is a Jack………..of Diamonds. Here, even you can look.” He tries to show her the card, but she spits in his face.“Oh……..So Unwise.” He cocks the gun back, as the other four women begin to bawl, sensing themselves becoming witnesses to a murder. Instead, he walks around the room, searching for something. He comes back with a long stick with rags tied around the top, and a blowtorch causing them all to scream in horror. He gets close to the fifth female, and takes out a knife and cuts her across the midsection in a swift manner. He then lights the now torch, and holds it so that the flames do not touch her, but the heat manages to burn the cut closed. “You know, for a firefighter, you do not do a good job. Why didn’t you put it out?” In a stunning move, he then cuts them all down from the ropes that held them. He holds up his gun, and cocks it back.“Game over. You may all leave. But, any sudden moves will bring you instant death. Besides, all of the cards were Red anyway. Leave, and tell someone about it if you wish. Take my car if you want.” The women shake, but muster enough know how to leave the warehouse as he tosses them his keys. When he hears doors close, and tires squeal, He removes his mask to reveal…..RCA: Thank you, ladies. Thank you for bleeding for me. Now, your male counterparts will do the same, and Minutes from Midnight, I will be the one…..who is Sanguine, as in Champion. See you at Crimson Dawn.
(Phone rings, and is picked up)
“Sir..”
“What now…”
“We’ve lost him….”
“How…..do you know my boss will have my job due to your mistakes?”
“It’s like he vanished without a trace, into thin air…We haven’t seen him since the day before yesterday.”
“AND NOW YOU TELL ME!?!?!?!?!??! Does your incompetence know no bounds?”
“But sir…”
“NO!!!! He has a very important job to do for us. He will be at the Louisiana Superdome tonight. You find him, and never let him out of your sight again!!! Clear.”
“Crystal, sir…..”
(click)
RCA: By the way, whoever you are who called me earlier in the week……… I WILL FIND YOU. END.
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Exodus
Lower Midcarder
A mystery wrapped within an enigma
Posts: 112
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Post by Exodus on Jun 25, 2008 23:30:37 GMT -5
Tale of the Fallen: Part Two [/u][/center][/color] The scene opens to Juliet and Drew Michaels, the wrestler formerly known to the world of Vendetta Championship Wrestling as the mysterious Exodus, sitting in a doctor’s examining room. Drew is holding his beloved’s hand, shaking in fear over both what her diagnosis may be as well as the thought of the recent events in his life involving one immensely powerful being known as the archangel Gabriel. Drew continuously ponders his decision to reject Gabriel’s offer of joining him in removing free will from the world in order to bring forth the Apocalypse sooner, despite Gabriel giving Drew the ability to heal his Juliet, and the ramifications that decision may have upon himself and the lives of his loved ones when Doctor David Rikjaard enters the examining room with a smile on his face.Rikjaard:[/color] Good news you two, it looks like Juliet has made a complete recovery. In fact, you seem healthier then I have ever seen anyone in my time in the medical field. I will have no problem discharging you with these results. Drew, will you follow me I just need you to sign some paperwork. Drew kisses Juliet on the cheek and follows Dr. Rikjaard out into the hallway of the hospital and David quickly turns back to his friend and begins to talk. Rikjaard:[/color] Drew, I have something I need to tell you… Michaels:[/color] What is it David? I know the bill is going to be huge on this, I did call you all the way from your clinic to a hospital in Philadelphia but I just think you are the best in the wor- Rikjaard (Interrupting): Juliet is pregnant. Michaels:[/color] Excuse me!? Rikjaard:[/color] The blood tests I ran all show the same thing, she is pregnant. In fact, she is about two months along. Michaels:[/color] But…but that can’t be! Ethan and Diabolical, they removed her ovaries after we lost the first child… Rikjaard:[/color] I know, you showed me the video when I overlooked her to make sure she was not suffering from any sort of infection from the procedure. Listen, (David looks around quickly for other doctors before continuing to speak) what happened to heal her? Michaels:[/color] Excuse me? Rikjaard:[/color] The disease she was suffering from, it was biologically engineered to have no cure. Ever since it first showed up in use by an African government against rebel groups, scientists have been working around the clock to discover a cure. None has been found and no one has survived it until now. I know you life is, well, a little extraordinary so what happened? Drew sighs and smiles.Michaels:[/color] I touched her and she woke up, it was as if I had some sort of healing ability. Rikjaard:[/color] So your touch cured her disease…(Thinks for a minute) Of course! Michaels:[/color] What? Rikjaard:[/color] When your touch healed Juliet, it not only healed her illness it repaired all damage done to her body in her lifetime, including her missing ovaries. I would venture to say that if she had her tonsils or wisdom teeth removed at some point that even they too are back. Michaels:[/color] But how is she pregnant? Rikjaard:[/color] When Ham punched Juliet, it must have caused an incomplete abortion, meaning some tissue and cells remained in utero. Though these cells were dead, whatever supernatural effects your touch had also revived them to their fullest potential. Michaels:[/color] Meaning her pregnancy has picked up right where it left off. Oh my God… Rikjaard:[/color] You get what so few in this world do Drew, you get a second chance. Drew begins to smile widely and shake his head in astonishment before questioning the doctor.Michaels:[/color] As a medical professional, how do you so easily accept these supernatural explanations? Does it not go against everything you are taught to believe? David nods slowly and thoughtfully before answering Drew.Rikjaard:[/color] I have seen a lot of things in my life Drew and I have dreamed much, much more. It’s not hard to believe in the supernatural when things like that are natural. Now go get your wife and get out of here, I have to get home. Michaels:[/color] Thank you, thank you so much. Drew goes to hug Rikjaard but the doctor pushes him away.Rikjaard:[/color] I got my wisdom teeth out when I was young; it was a more than an excruciating experience. I would personally prefer not to have to do it again. Michaels (Laughing): Fine, I understand. Drew turns and walks into the examining room with a huge smile on his face as the scene fades out to black…*****[/i] Sometimes, the unpredictable happens; just when we think we understand everything the world has asked of us, another road block is thrown into our path. I had it all planned out at one point, I was going to become a wrestling superstar and raise a family alongside my beautiful wife Juliet. It was going to be the perfect life neither of us had ever had but completely deserved.
Then D. Hammond Samuels had a say…
Then Ethan Black had a say…
Now that dream can again be reality, everything I have ever wanted has fallen back into my lap but honestly, it scares me. What kind of favor do I owe Gabriel for this? Must I serve his scheme? Can I even stop the tidal waves from sweeping me away at this point?
And why do I keep hearing, seeing, feeling Exodus in my sleep?*****[/i] The scene reopens to Drew Michaels sitting in a darkened locker room somewhere in the Louisiana Superdome, the only things visible is Drew and the Exodus mask he is holding in front of his face. Drew stares into the empty eyeholes of the mask; his mind seems to be working a million miles a minute.Michaels:[/color] What are you? Drew throws the mask across the room in anger as if he expected it to answer, he curses audibly before staring off into the distance. Michaels:[/color] I crafted this story in my mind; it came to me in a dream unlike any other. I saw the mask float towards me, I saw Exodus fall out of Heaven in a blazing inferno of defeat. I saw his victories and I felt his many defeats. I decided this was the perfect cover to battle Craig Christ in when the opportunity arose but something is off now, something other then the mask. Voice: You are so ridiculously narrowed minded for a being who deals almost exclusively with that which exists outside of his realm of reality. Michaels:[/color] You… Drew does not turn to view the being commentating on his problems with the identity of Exodus, he knows him all to well as of late. After all, it was not many great archangels who grace Drew with their presence. No, it was only one whom has spent his time persuading Drew Michaels to stand beside me and the Lion known as Gabriel was definitely at it again.Gabriel:[/color] I see you have been pondering the mysteries of life again Andrew. Should you not instead be pondering my proposition to you relating to the fate of the world you have sworn yourself to protect? Michaels:[/color] What is there to ponder Gabriel, your plot does not interest me; it does not interest me in the slightest. In fact, I will tell you now I will work diligently to oppose you in your efforts. Gabriel:[/color] Such a brave mortal, does not even the gift you have so longed prayed for sway you towards my side? Drew jumps up in anger, righteous and pure.Michaels:[/color] You knew I would heal Juliet with the power you gave me! And you knew that would resurrect the child! You want to use it as a bargaining tool against me, you bastard! Gabriel simply smiles as he looks down upon Drew.Gabriel:[/color] Will it work? After all, everything I gave you can easily be taken away at the wave of my hand. Gabriel proceeds to wave his hand and a flower grows out of the concrete floor of the locker room, seemingly defying all logic and reason.Gabriel:[/color] For I can giveth to you Andrew… Gabriel waves his hand again.Gabriel:[/color] Or I can taketh away. The flower dies quickly and scatters into dust as Gabriel gives out a hearty laugh.Michaels:[/color] So you are going to use the life of a child in order to use me to forward your foul plans? How noble of you… Gabriel:[/color] I do it for the betterment of the entire populace; you are just too foolish to understand that sometimes sacrifices must be made for the good of existence but terrestrial and heavenly! Michaels:[/color] Free will is a gift from the Father, to take that away is to deny Him and His love of us all. Gabriel:[/color] I just look to speed up a process we all are waiting for and have been waiting on for far, far too long. Michaels:[/color] It will come when the Father says it is to come, we are not to doubt that fact or attempt to predict it. Gabriel:[/color] How do you know this is not God’s Will? Michaels:[/color] Excuse me? Gabriel:[/color] How do you know what I want to do is not the Will of the Almighty? After all, I have set beside Him for many years; why would I do anything He would not agree with? That is the type of treason that got the Morningstar and many other cast out of Heaven and it the Abyss. Michaels:[/color] No…no. The God I love would never rip free will from the people, it is too important to what makes us unique, what actually makes us a person. Gabriel:[/color] So you deny my offer even though I give you the greatest gift possible, the only gift you wanted for your various struggles? Drew reflects silently on this for a second, he thinks about the consequences of the next words out of his mouth, the consequences not only for himself but also for all those he loved and cared for and even for the planet as a whole.Michaels:[/color] Gabriel, I deny thee and your foul plan. I deny thee from Hell to Heaven, from Earth to the stars. Gabriel takes it in for a minute, simply floating in front of Drew, and then shakes his head very slowly.Gabriel:[/color] So be it Andrew, you had your chance to go along with my plan willingly in both body and in spirit. Now I simply will take your body. ( Waves his hand in front of Drew) Activate. Drew’s entire body seems to catch afire even when no flames are visible. He feels every muscle burn, every bone ache. The only part of his body not in pain is his mind. No, his mind does not hurt; it simply seems to drift away…Michaels:[/color] What…( Long pause) What is happening…? Gabriel:[/color] Do not fret Andrew, it will be over soon. The scene fades out into black…*****[/i] … And reopens in a desolate landscape. Nothing arises above the flat and barren ground, no clouds seem to float in the sky nor do stars twinkle. The ground never seems to rise into a hill nor does it dip into the Earth it simply seems to run on forever. The scenery, well, it simply just is. Drew attempts to survey his new surroundings and see nothing at allMichaels:[/color] Hello…? Just as Drew calls out his question and, suddenly, a figure seems to arise from ground and it quickly approaches Drew. As the figure gets closer, Michaels is able to quickly recognize it. The Ultraviolent One gasps as an identical replica of himself wearing the Exodus mask stands in front of him.Michaels:[/color] Who…who are you? Exodus:[/color] You know Andrew, you know all too well who I am and what I am doing here. Does it scare you? Drew is silent for a minute before answering. Michaels:[/color] Yes… Exodus:[/color] I thought so, I scare lots of people. In fact, I am surprised the powers in Heaven actually felt like bringing me forth would be a good idea. Michaels:[/color] So…so you are real? You are not a figment of my mind? Exodus:[/color] I am every bit as real as Uriel or Gabriel or anything other spiritual being you have encountered in your journeys. I just manifest in a different way. Michaels:[/color] You’re the failsafe. (Thinking) Gabriel told Nick when they met he was going to have to activate the failsafe in order to contain me. You are that failsafe, implanted within my genetic code to prevent me from going astray like Eric did. Exodus:[/color] You are almost correct Chosen One, I am indeed meant to control you from going rogue like the son of Remi did. However, I am not within your genetic structure. No, that would mean we have been bonded from birth. No, I was attached to something far more important then some chromosome within your DNA structure. No, I was attached to your very essence. Michaels:[/color] My soul… Exodus:[/color] Long ago you encountered a devil on your travels to learn about a mystical being known as N’itomniskittel. He looked deep into your very being and told you things you also knew about yourself but never had the nerve to admit to yourself. After this event occurred, you began to hear a voice that you called a monster, the Misfit within your mind. Michaels:[/color] That was you. But…but I ousted you, I defeated my doubts and insecurities long ago. Exodus:[/color] No, I simply manifested in a different form. I found a way escape and became my own being if only for temporary bursts of time. The best part of it all was that you thought it was you working under your own free will. It was hilarious to me, it just really was. Michaels (Thinking): You were not supposed to be able to get out, were you? Something freed you early! Meaning…meaning I have already subdued you. Exodus:[/color] What are you talking about? Michaels:[/color] If you had attacked me in full force instead of being able to slip out slowly, you might have been able to conquer my mind. However, I have been beating you for so long that you are weakened; that’s why I materialized here before you. You may be a part of me now Exodus due I am sure to Gabriel’s manipulations but I will not fall to you. Exodus:[/color] As if you have been given a choice mortal. For the first time in this exchange, Drew’s trademark smirk crosses his face as he stares down Exodus.Michaels:[/color] Apparently you have not been paying attention to recent events Exodus, one ALWAYS has a choice. Exodus lunges forward enraged, Drew quickly sidesteps his attacker and slips behind him. Michaels knows he cannot physically defeat a spirit in the mental plane; he simply needs to find a way to get back in control of his body. Somehow he has to find a way to control his body…
Then it hits like a ton of bricks, realization rushes over him like waves over a sand castle. This is Drew’s mind, not Exodus’s. Drew focuses all his might into the scenery around him, the ground begins to quake as Exodus arises back to his feet. The Earth itself rises up and consumes the masked man; he is dragged back into the ground from which he materialized earlier. His screams echo in Drew’s ears as the Socialist Superhero watches coldly as the eternal being bonded to his soul disappears into the nether regions of his mind.Michaels:[/color] Now I just have to snap out of it… Just have to snap out of it… Snap out of it… *****[/i]* Michaels:[/color] SNAP OUT OF IT! Drew yells at the top of his lungs, the scream echoes through the room where he and Gabriel are waiting. The archangel seems taken aback by this occurrence; he did not expect Drew to be able to escape his fate as the vessel for the spirit of Exodus.Gabriel:[/color] How did you escape? Drew drags himself to his feet and stares at Gabriel, he is breathing heavily from the experience against Exodus.Michaels:[/color] I guess you did not consider that my will was too strong for Exodus to overcome. Gabriel:[/color] No…NO! Something must have gone wrong; he must have been weakened somehow. Once released by my power, Exodus cannot be defeated. Michaels:[/color] Unless he was released slowly sooner. Gabriel:[/color] WHAT!? Michaels:[/color] I have been playing Exodus for a month now in this wrestling company, how could you not know? Gabriel:[/color] Something…something protected you! But nothing in existence is more powerful then I, I am the left hand of God! Uriel:[/color] You are a fool. Uriel, Drew’s guardian angel, arises from the Earth next to Drew; he floats between Gabriel and the Chosen One.Gabriel:[/color] Uriel, what business dares brings you away from Heaven? You know all archangels are to remain there after the turmoil in Hell! Uriel:[/color] I could ask the same of you. Michaels:[/color] Turmoil in Hell? Gabriel:[/color] My decree was what called for all angels to remain in Heaven, someone must watch over Earth. Uriel:[/color] Or perhaps you hope we will not see your actions on this planet. Gabriel is obviously upset at Uriel’s appearance and spins his staff in the air; it causes Uriel to fall to the Earth and land on his feet. Gabriel:[/color] State your business Sephirim Uriel! Uriel:[/color] My charge is the Chosen One Andrew Michaels; his protection is the above all job of Heaven as a whole. I have authority to exempt myself from all Heavenly decrees, even those from the mighty Gabriel. Gabriel:[/color] Your charge is in no danger Uriel, remove yourself from my business! Uriel:[/color] Then why was Exodus activated here? Gabriel:[/color] Excuse me? You know as a well as I do what kind of crime it is to activate Exodus; anyone who does such a thing is instantly cast into the pits of Hell. Such an accusation better come with solid evidence. Uriel turns towards Drew and smiles upon him.Uriel:[/color] Drew, has Exodus been activated? Michaels:[/color] Indeed he has. Uriel:[/color] And who did such a thing? Michaels:[/color] The Archangel Gabriel did such a thing. Uriel:[/color] Sounds like you have been accused by a witness Gabriel. Gabriel:[/color] He is but a mortal! Uriel:[/color] He is the Chosen One, a mortal blessed with the touch of God. Michaels:[/color] Excuse me but what is going on? Uriel:[/color] Exodus is a foul demon that influenced the Morningstar’s decision to rebel against God. Once defeated, he was contained in Heaven and had rested undisturbed for years. Many advocated the use of Exodus to regain control of Eric when he turned on us but they were denied their request. Now it seems that Gabriel has instead decided to use the demon for another purpose, to try to control you if his plan to influence you failed. Gabriel:[/color] How long have you known Uriel? Uriel:[/color] Months but I could reveal nothing in fear of it activating. However, once Drew encountered Eric, the former Chosen One, in battle and lost; Exodus was freed from his tomb within Drew’s mind. I thus used my power to hide him from your view in hopes that Drew could escape the demon’s control and lies before you discovered it. Gabriel:[/color] You treacherous worms! I cannot allow you to end my plan; we are too close to fruition! Gabriel reaches to his side and goes to raise his flaming blade when Uriel does the same. The guardian angel turns back to Drew. Uriel:[/color] I will stop him; we will teleport back to Heaven before battle can even begin due to Heavenly law. I will likely be tried as a traitor, I am sorry I could not help you any further. Michaels:[/color] Uriel… Uriel:[/color] Trust me Drew, you just have to trust me. Drew pauses for a minute before nodding slowly.Michaels:[/color] I do trust you, I really do. Uriel and Gabriel’s blades strike each other as the scene is consumed by bright white light…*****[/i] Trust.
Gabriel begs me to trust him, Uriel asks me to trust him. How can I ever trust anyone again when it seems even Heaven is out to destroy the world? As a Christian, my mind is trained to believe that God has the best intentions for all of us and that Heaven is this peaceful place of clouds and tranquility.
This may not be completely true.
My mind is rushing, I know Exodus is crawling within it looking for an opportunity to escape; I cannot allow that. His next chance will likely be in coming VCW match against a Misfit, I do not know which one. It pains me to do battle with one of my brothers, one that has seemingly fallen under the control of Craig Christ’s horrible schemes. He promises power, fame, wealth; everything the Misfits was not. Instead, he offers only sins and lies.
His offers are much like those of Gabriel, empty offers in search of only power and glory for one’s self. Gabriel offers me the world, everything I have ever wanted, simply to serve him. However, unlike whoever accepted the offer of Craig Christ, I am able to distinguish the right from the wrong.
I prepare for a two front battle tonight as I fight not only the continual influence of Exodus over my psyche but also I must physically battle one of my brothers…
Edible Matthewson…
Trey Spruance…
Travis “TJ Rage” James…
Mass Chaos…
One of these men will be across the ring from me; one of these men will look to destroy me. However, after everything I have been through recently and all I will still encounter, I can only truly say one thing to them…
Hit me with your best shot.
I do not die, I do not surrender. I am the Chosen One of the LORD Almighty and that is not going to change no matter what any angel, cult leader, demon, or Misfit has to say about it.
All of you; Fear me not because I am divine, fear me not because I am the best pro wrestler alive…
Fear me because I am Drew Michaels, a man scorned. End Chapter Two…[/i][/size]
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Post by kennithnoisewater on Jun 26, 2008 3:17:33 GMT -5
“And I don’t think you should outlaw fantasizing about someone else’s wife, otherwise what’s a guy gonna have to think about while he’s waxing his carrot?”
- George Carlin 1937 - 2008The familiar sound pours from the television and the 6 o clock news begins Ron: Welcome to the 6 o clock news. I’m Ron Kingston, and here’s what’s happening in and around your area… today.
Tragedy strikes on the 163:
One man is dead after trying to cross the southbound lanes of SR-163 Monday night.
The accident occurred around 9 p.m. Monday, just south of the Friars Road exit.
According to the California Highway Patrol, the man was in the center divide of the freeway and tried to cross to the west side, while pushing a shopping cart filled with bags.
Investigators said it appeared that a vehicle heading south hit him as he tried to cross the freeway.
What are my thoughts on this? How stupid can one man be, to try and cross a freeway with shopping carts? He may as well have put a gun to his own…The camera abruptly shuts off as commercials begin to play. The news comes back in a few short minutes later. Chase: I apologize to the family of that man, and I also apologize on behalf of Ron Kingston. I’m Chase Stonetower, and here is the news.
Police said a young man suffered serious stab wounds and two others were injured in a possibly gang-related assault outside a house in San Diego's Mountain View neighborhood, where a party was being held.
The victims were on the sidewalk of a house on South 39th Street near Oceanview Boulevard around 9:20 p.m. Saturday night when they were approached by several people who left, but returned with a larger group, San Diego police Sgt. Richard Nemetz said.
The three were stabbed when a fight broke out. The most seriously injured victim is expected to survive, Nemetz said.
The suspects ran off, but one was detained near the scene, the sergeant said.
Now for a lighter topic. Over the past few months Kennith Noisewater has been undercover, posing as a professional wrestler for the upstart promotion VCW. That’s Vendetta Championship Wrestling. When we come back from break we will talk shortly with Ken, and give you the viewers another installment of …
BEYOND THE CURTAIN: PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING’S DARK SECRETS
The camera fades as we cut to commercial Ron: What the fuck!? You can’t do this to me Jim! I made this station what it is today! And if I go down I’m taking it with me!Jim: Listen Ron, you have problems, and you clearly don’t take your job seriously anymore. You can’t say stuff like that on the news. We won’t put up with it anymore.Ron: Fuck you! I can do whatever the hell I want. I’m RON KINGSTON!!!Jim: YOU’RE FIRED!!! NOW GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!!!Ron: COCK…SUCKER…MOTHER…FUCKER!!!Jim: SECURITY!!! PLEASE ESCORT RON KINGSTON OUT OF THE BUILDING!!We come back from commercial Chase: We’re back once again as I am now joined by Kennith Noisewater. Ken: Hi everyone…w…where’s Ron at?Chase: There was a situation earlier that we’re clearing up. Ron: (muffled from offstage) You piece of shit!! You fucker…you fucking bitch!!Chase: Well…So explain to us Ken, what has been going on in your crazy ride thus far?Ken: Its weird, two months ago I thought that by this point I would be regretting the hell out of taking on this assignment, but honestly I’m really starting to like it. Chase: ExplainKen: Well Chase, as it would turn out. I’m pretty damn good at wrestling. I’ve only lost one match in my time there, and I’ve made it to the finals of a tournament to determine the federations first Heavyweight Champion, which is the highest honor you can possibly achieve in a federation such as this. Chase: Wow, that is something. So when is the match taking place?Ken: The title match will be fought in a fatal fourway match, which is basically four guys, in an all out brawl. There are two ways this match can be fought, either the first person to get a pin wins the match, or it is an elimination format. Meaning four men start off the match, and then one gets pinned, and another, until one man is left. Chase: And when would this be? Ken: Sorry. This will all be happening at Crimson Dawn. It is VCW first ever Pay Per View event. This Sunday, at 8 o’clock. Chase: Very interesting, so what will we be seeing on this next video?Ken: I believe the next video begins after my match at VCW Live 1.4. Which is where I was handed my first ever loss. And then it goes from there, up until this point. Chase: Well here you are folks, what you’ve all been waiting for. Enjoy.
The scene fades in as Now You’re a Man by DVDA plays
BEYOND THE CURTAIN: PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING’S DARK SECRETS The scene comes in as Kennith Noisewater sits in the VCW locker room moments after his first loss at the hands of Chris Austin Well people, I just lost. You know, when I first started this little project I didn’t care whether I won or loss, but now that I’ve discovered this ability I possess… it hurts. I should have won, I know I could have, but my head just wasn’t in it out there. I took too many risks, I telegraphed my moves, it just wasn’t clicking out there. I guess it has to do with the fact that I may have been discovered. You see a few nights ago I went out with one of the guys, and he told me that people have been complaining about their stuff coming up missing, or someone has gone through it. And one of them knows someone who lives in San Diego who has seen this very segment. How I haven’t been found out yet really boggles my mind. No one ever accused wrestlers as being the smartest people in the world. I guess this just gives what I’m doing an added risk. Not that I really care because to be honest, this little project has taken sort of a back seat as of now. I’m going to go shower and think over some things. The scene fades out as Noisewater walks away. We come back in as we see Noisewater run towards the door of the dressing room. He opens the door to see a giant group of VCW superstars standing in the hallways all looking at someone. Just then the man causing all of the commotions walks by without saying a word. Everyone then begins going on with their usual post show routines. Ken: Hey Romeo! What’s going on?Romeo: You didn’t see? Ken: I didn’t see anything I was in the shower. What happened?Romeo: Exodus… he took his mask off. Ken: Yeah…so? That guy was all talk. He was no sweat.Romeo: Do you know who he is? Ken: Who cares I beat the hell out of him. Romeo: Exodus is Drew Michaels. Ken: Who?Romeo: Drew Michaels! Ken: I…I don’t…Romeo: LPW? FMW? Ken: VCW…this is VCW.Romeo: G** Da**** (its tv, you can’t say that on tv) Magnum! Drew Michaels is one of the top 10 wrestlers around right now! Maybe even top 5. Ken: ReallyRomeo: Yes! Ken: I had no idea.Romeo: And you call yourself a… Ken: Ahhh look at the time. I better get going to bed early tonight… I’ve got…a thing…with……….bye!So Exodus, the man I feared. The man I defeated turns out to be one Drew Michaels. A superstar in the sport of professional wrestling. A man known all throughout the world is now in VCW. I’ve found my prime suspect.The scene fades out as we see Noisewater grabbing his stuff and quickly running out of the building. We fade back in, there is a computer screen with Kennith Noisewater’s reflection in it. The camera turns and Ken begins to speak. I think I just found my main target. Forget all the others. I knew that there was something mysterious about Exodus when I first saw him. I knew there was more to him that what the mask showed. Come to find out, he is really one of the most famous wrestlers around right now. The perfect target. If I can uncover some dirt on the poster boy for the wrestling business, then I can bury it once and for all. Now lets see just who you are Drew Michaels. *Headbanger was born Andrew Michaels to a nice family somewhere in suburban America, now known to be is South Carolina. Due to some still unknown tragic event in his life, Michaels dropped out of sight and trained in fighting styles around to world to become Headbanger, master of violence. A number of theories have surfaced about the transformation period between Andrew and Headbanger. What is known is that something happened to his parents that led him to blame himself and thus run away. From there, it is known he became involved with a number of gangs and even trained as a wrestler at one time after getting into some legal trouble, making his pro debut at the age of 18. However, the gang activity continued and Drew found himself in Asia. The events in Asia are not clear but what is known is that Headbanger participated in a number of illegal pit fights and amassed a small fortune because of it.Wait…what is this? NO! He did that? There’s no way. If this sort of thing got out to the public his career could be finished, the sport could be tarnished forever. Do I dare bring this out in the open? Do I risk something that I may possibly love just so I can have a news story? I…I just don’t know. I have some thinking to do…and I also have some preparing to do.The scene fades out from behind Noisewater as he still sits at his computer reading. We come back in at the FMW power plant, the same exact place Kennith Noisewater was trained. The scene includes shots of Kennith Noisewater lifting weights, as well as showing some in ring work. He is now tweaking some things out in preparation for his heavyweight title match at VCW’s first Pay Per View Crimson Dawn. He is joined by the man that trained him Nick Bryson. I’m here now training. I’m training this hard because in three short days comes the biggest moment of my wrestling life. The biggest moment of VCW’s wrestling life. Crimson Dawn, the companies first Pay Per View event. Call your local cable viewer or satellite network for further details regarding Crimson Dawn. Anyways, this is huge for me. A few short weeks ago when this cycle started. A cycle being a string of four shows as in VCW 1.1 and so one. It is seen every week when the show begins. Anyways, when this thing started I had little confidence that I would even make it out of the first round of the tournament. And now just four weeks later, I’m main eventing the first Pay Per View, and it’s for the VCW World Heavyweight Championship. A fatal fourway match featuring myself, Eric Ares, Feyd Brisbane, and Thomas Hookton. I am not by any means the favorite to win it, so that’s why I’ve come in search of the man who got me here Nick Bryson. Nick: Well, I’m proud of you, but mostly. I’m glad you aren’t dead. I’ve seen the dumbass shit you’ve been pulling out there.Ken: It is about entertaining the fans right?Nick: Yeah, but in all seriousness. You have done way beyond what people thought you were capable of. You’ve beaten some of the best there is to beat, and you’ve come this far, so don’t stop. Most people aren’t looking at you and saying that you will win, but there are those of us who believe that you’ve got what it takes. Prove all the doubters wrong. Ken: I will. Nick: Well, what are you waiting for then? Lets get back to work. The scene switches now as Nick Bryson and Kennith Noisewater are now in the ring Nick: Now your main concern in this match has to be Eric Ares. I’ve seen him fight and let me tell you, he is probably the best pure wrestler in this match. He’s very technical, but he isn’t afraid to pound you to the ground either. He reminds me a lot of FMW’s Alex Orion. Now he has a highly versatile moveset too, so you’re going to have to stay on your toes. And watch out, he will cheat. There is no level that he will not stoop to. Now his finishing move, you really have to watch out for, because there really aren’t many ways to block it. Your best bet would be to not get yourself in any sort of predicament that causes you to bend over, and always, ALWAYS keep him in front of you.
Feyd Brisbane is your all around ass kicker. There is nothing fancy about his moveset, it is straight up power. Don’t get into a brawling situation with him, because you will lose. The guy is a knight after all. What is good though is all of his moves will be easy for you to counter such as the power bomb, and also his finisher can be easily revearsed in to DDT variations. Something you are familiar with.
Thomas Hookton is another ass kicker, but he has some technical skills that he hides. His moveset is very spontaneous and is always changing. So he will be a little unpredictable. He has two very powerful, yet very reversible finishing moves. The first being a full nelson back breaker. Everyone knows to get out of a full nelson there are two things you can do. Elbow’s to the face, or then unconventional kick to the nuts. His second finisher is a Death Valley Driver. If you time this move right, you can land on your feet and give him a nice roundhouse kick right in the mouth.
Now you know, but as they say. Knowing is half the battle. We need to do some extensive work on these, I’ve brought in sparring partners for you with similar styles as these men. By the time Crimson Dawn comes around, you’re going to know these guys like the back of your hand. Ken: …Wow
Wow is right, Bryson was really taking this very seriously. He had an extensive scouting report about each of the men I was going to be facing. For a guy with so much going on right now I find it amazing that he took the time to do that. Now I feel as if there is a huge weight on my shoulders, and that if I lose…I will have let everyone down. The scene fades out as Noisewater squares up with one of the sparring partners. We come back in, in the backstage area for Crimson Dawn as Kennith Noisewater is getting ready to tape his promo for his upcoming heavyweight championship match. Director: Hey kid. How’s everything going for you today? Ken: Well, I’m actually feeling really comfortable about this.Director: That’s good. You looking to step up your game this go around? Ken: Yes I am. No more imitations, I’m going to speak from my heart. Its just going to be me out there. Director: Finally, you get what I’ve been trying to tell you all along. Ken: I really do.Director: Are you ready or what? Ken: Yes, but one more thing.Director: What? Ken: ThanksDirector: Thanks? For what? Ken: For not trying to kill me after all of those horrible attempts at this.Director: Think nothing of it kid. Ken: Alright.Director: You ready? Ken: YesDirector: In five, four three… Ken: Tonight is the night. History is about to be made. VCW Heavyweight Championship, fatal fourway. The biggest night of my career. I made my way through the Seraphim Falls tournament to get to this point yet, no one is giving me a chance in hell of winning this thing tonight. So it seems as though for me tonight I either make my mark as a champion, or get thrown back into the mid card mix. You see I unlike Eric Ares, or Drew Michaels, or Christ, or Brisbane,even Hookton. There will be nothing for me if I lose here tonight. This may be my only chance to be at the top, my only shot at glory. My only shot to prove to everyone around the world that I am the best VCW has to offer. And I’m going to make a promise to all the VCW fans watching at home. That I am going to go out there in front of the world and fight the fight that I need to fight. And when it’s all said and done, there will be one man standing in the ring, one man holding the gold above his head and that man will most definatly be me! Magnum!* Source: ewrestling.wikia.com/wiki/Headbanger#VCW_.282-1.29
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Bright
Developmental Talent
Watching. Waiting. Ever So Patient
Posts: 39
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Post by Bright on Jun 26, 2008 22:03:37 GMT -5
Broad Daylight.
Not a cloud in the sky.
The rays of the sun, so powerful they pierce the darkness surrounding a man’s aura. However, one man chooses to defy the warmth light brings into life. Benjamin Bright stands in the shadow of a brick wall, dressed in black, to shield himself from the bright, cancer causing light.
In his hands, he carries a bouquet of flowers, red roses for love, and purple violets for sorrow. The camera pans in closer to reveal the solemn look on his face. His reation changes slightly as a female voice is heard off screen.Melon:[/color] Mr. Bright, Must I remind you I am allergic to flowers. Bright:[/color] Mellissa Melon. Must I remind you I do not appreciate sarcasm. The camera pans to reveal Mellissa Melon. A young woman, in her early twenties. Dressed in a grey suit jacket, grey pants and a white shirt, she shakes her head at the large man.Melon:[/color] I don’t know why I bother with you sometimes Mr. Bright. Bright:[/color] Because… Melon:[/color] Because…? Bright:[/color] Just because. Mellissa extends her hand to Bright, her gentle loving face seeming breaking through Bright’s defencive barrier. He takes her hand and the two of them walk towards a large metal gate.Bright:[/color] Wait… I’m not ready. Melon:[/color] You say that every year. Why can’t you ever be ready? Bright:[/color] It’s too hard. I sit and I and I watch other people. I judge them, I study them, and I learn from them. Melon:[/color] Because it’s too hard to look at and accept the mistakes of your past? Bright:[/color] I can’t do it. Mellissa takes out a set of keys from her jacket and places a long, black key into the padlock. With a slight twist, it clicks open, opening it’s abyss to the outside world. She turns to Bright and points at him.Melon:[/color] I didn’t take the day off work to open up the garden for you, so you could just turn around and leave. You, Benjamin Bright, are going in there, and you will take care of your business. Bright:[/color] I’m getting old, and with it, my will grows weak. Mellissa, you have to understand, I’ve annually faced the past annually for the past 21 years. Forgive me if I can’t bear to put my soul through the pain again. Mellissa shakes her head, before walking over to Bright and taking his hand.Melon:[/color] Then allow me to join you. It could help. Bright looks down at the young woman. Such a strong and powerful young lady, with a brilliant will to succeed. She reminds him of a younger version of himself, that fighting determined spirit. It’s unmissable.Bright:[/color] I guess I can trust in you. It’s about time you faced the past as well young lady… The pair walk off into the hilled area, as the screen fades out.
We fade back to the observatory. The litter strewn abode is not only a depressingly, but the absence of natural light is depressing. Benjamin Bright sits in an arm chair, staring out into the abyss of darkness.Bright:[/color] The time has come, Bmore. My old body is running on reserves, and my mind is becoming flickle. Bright shifts his weight in the chair, it’s very being and fabric groaning under the weight of the three hundred and thirty-seven pound frame of Bright.Bright:[/color] I envy you. I really do. I have watched you, seen you work. Your youthful enthusiasm is inspiring. It makes me remember my days in the business. When I was just starting my path to greatness. The chair creaks and cracks as Bright pulls himself out of the chair. He walks a few feet to where his trusty television sits. On top sit a handful of video cassettes. Bright picks up one and holds it to the camera, showing it’s hand written title - “Bmore – Nightclubs”.Bright:[/color] However, there is only so much I can observe for myself through the glass of a TV. Things like aura, passion and energy can’t truly be measured through vision. Thus, I, Benjamin Bright, have challenged you to a match a Crimson Dawn to measure these qualities for my self. A challenge you willingly accepted. Bright returns the cassette to the top of the TV, placing it among other titles, such as “Christian G. Smitten – Anarchy 6.3”, “Craig Christ – VCW Live 1.4” and “Beauty and the Beast”.Bright:[/color] I’d be lying Bmore if I didn’t say there was another motive for my challenge. You see, you remind me soo much of a youthful me, that I wish to try and facilitate your learning, to ensure you don’t wind up as cynical and introverted as I have. In my younger years, I enjoyed parties. Looking at me now, it might be difficult to believe. But I did. And I not only enjoyed them, I lived for them. So much so, that I made one mistake. One fatal mistake that changed my life forever, twenty years ago. It halted my career for the past twenty years. I am not ready to face this mistake. It’s something I have been trying to come to terms with for the past twenty one years. I am keen to see you avoid such a mistake like this. However, I need to know if you possess the same aura and energy that I did at your age. Thus, I need to attempt to defeat you at Crimson Dawn. Do not take me lightly. While I have no bad blood towards you, I am a professional, and will not be holding anything back. Look back through history, Bmore. Ciaran Kennedy thought I couldn’t keep up with the younger generation, and suffered defeat at my hands. I will walk into Crimson Dawn, the same proud and arrogant man I am today. I will walk out of Crimson Dawn the same, but with a better understanding. I wish to help you, but only if you let me. Bright stares into the camera as we fade out.
We fade back to the garden where Mellissa Melon and Benjamin Bright are. Bright is on his knees, facing away from Mellissa. He rises to his feet, and return to the young woman.Bright:[/color] I am ready to return to the observatory now, Ms. Melon. Without waiting, Bright proceeds to walk towards the exit. Mellissa watches Bright take the first few steps, before walking to the spot where Bright knelt.Melon:[/color] I’ll be home soon mom. Thanks for letting Dad speak to you… Mellissa looks at Bright as he walks through the metal gate. She watches him close the gate behind himself, and lock the padlock.
Mellissa cracks a weak smile as a single tear runs down the side of her face as she ghost-ily fades away to nothing, revealing a Tombstone. The flowers Bright was holding before are placed at the foot of the tombstone, underneath the engraving. It reads…
Bernadette Bright
5-8-1963 to 6-27-1988
Mother, Wife, Loving Friend.
Untimely ripped from this world.
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Mr. Thomas Hookton
Lower Midcarder
If Heaven Rides Against Us, Then Gods Be Damned
Posts: 117
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Post by Mr. Thomas Hookton on Jun 27, 2008 10:02:13 GMT -5
“You can’t do this Thom.”
Wrong Catherine. I can do whatever I want. I’m going to do whatever I want. This is the last fucking straw.
Slamming his fists down on the oaken table, Thomas Hookton slides his chair backward and rises from his seat in one fluid motion. Standing during an argument always seems to help Hookton get his point across.
This is the end. Fuck the Championship my dear, I don’t care about it. But I do care about dismantling the others in the ring. It’s time, once and for all, that I send Craig Christ the message he has been so sorely missing.
“You can’t just do this Thom, two of those men are your allies. You need them.”
Need them for what? Need them to turn their backs on me? Need them to do what it is that everyone I have ever relied on, barring you, has done to me? What exactly is it that I need them for?
“What about the entire reason you joined VCW? To stop corruption where you see it? To put an end to tyrannical rule?”
That is still my mission, don’t think for a second I have lost sight of that, don’t doubt me for a minute Catherine. But while it’s still my goal it doesn’t mean I have to rely on others, or get swept up in their doctrines in order to achieve my goals.
“So what? You are just going to become a vigilante and do whatever the hell you want? You aren’t the goddamn Batman Thom, you’re just an ordinary guy.”
I know, I know I’m just a normal person. But here’s the thing. For too long people have operated outside of the system as a means to oppose it, not for long. Winning this match, becoming the champion means that I have reached the pinnacle of what can be done within the system. It also means I have all the sway in the world to subvert the system.
“And you believe all this? One minute ago you said you didn’t give a fuck about the Championship.”
I don’t, but I recognize its significance. I have been a tool used by the system in order to reach an end. It’s time I use something to achieve my goals.
Hookton looks down at his wife, still seated at the kitchen table, the ferocity in his eyes begins to fade as he gazes into the calmness of hers.
What is it?
“You’re an idiot Thom.”
Thanks for that vote of confidence.
“You realize that by using their methods you become nothing more than their clone? By replicating their approach you lose who you are. Don’t you see that? If you do this, they win, regardless of the outcome. They win because you have forfeited everything it is that you stand for, all of your morals and values in order to stand against them. They win because they destroy who you are and the make another version of themselves. You understand the uses of the Championship as a means to sway people, does that not sound like Craig Christ, like something he would say? Think about it Thom, don’t lose who you are in all of this.”
She melted him. The burning passion that exuded from his being mere seconds ago faded, replaced by a calm dignity. She was right, Hookton knew it.
I have no idea where I would be without you Catherine.
“In a dumpster behind Wal-Mart?”
I was being serious. Every time I think I’m about to travel down the correct path you always stop me, slap me and send me on my way doing the right thing. I really don’t know where I would be.
“You sure as hell wouldn’t be here, but that isn’t the important thing Thom. You need to understand that you can’t just fight the system by being within the system, while that is one way it works, you lose yourself when you do this.”
I know. I’m just so tired of fighting. I just want this to be resolved.
“It will never be resolved Thom, there will always be someone out there trying to oppress others. And you will always been wanting to stand up for those who can’t stand up for themselves.”
I know, and that’s what scares me. Is this a battle I can’t win? Do I keep trying even though I know I can’t win? If everytime I destroy one of these guys two more upstarts pop up what’s the point?
“The point is there is someone who is saying no. So long as there is one person willing to standing and say this is isn’t right, then there is hope. Don’t you see that Thom? You are Hope. You are the flicker in the night time that lets people know the darkness isn’t everywhere, that light will come again. If you give up, then all hope is lost.”
I hate that you are always right. Well then Craig Christ had better realize this is his end of days. Crimsom Dawn will be just that, a new era, free from his tyranny once and for all.
Standing from the table yet again Hookton turned his back to his wife, her brown hair flowing over her shoulders in sharp contrast to her bright green eyes. He loved her, with all his heart he loved her and he knew that he wasn’t just fighting for himself, there was much more at stake.
Thank you Catherine. There’s something I have to do.
Leaving the kitchen and continuing straight out the door Hookton vanished into the night. A wicked smile on his face and a look of pure malice in his eyes Hookton set forth into the darkness, the last bit of illumination, the first sign of change.
It was hours later when Hookton emerged from the darkness of the Port City. Crossing briefly under a street light on King street he took a brief glance around before entering Elwoods. The dimly light bar cast shadows upon the sparse patron. First glance revealed a backbar mirror which reflect the minimal light from outside, there was no traffic at this time of night, only the peace of darkness. A thin smoke lulled in the air, sure it was illegal to smoke in a bar, but that didn’t actually stop anyone. Hookton merely nods to the bartender and continue on his way to the back of the bar, stretching out his hand a receiving a bottle of James Ready and chuckling briefly at the Lion Rampant engraved on the bottle.
Taking a swig of the beer Hookton pushed open a black door in front of him, the smoke is thicker in the room he enteres, obscuring the view of the camera and the identities of the men in the room.
“Thomas Hookton. What brings such a noble man into our presence?”
You didn’t need to know who he was to hear the sarcasm heavy in his voice.
You know exactly why I’m here.
“I ‘ave an idea, but I certainly would like you to explain it to me.”
It’s really simple. Protection.
“And why would WE protect YOU?”
Even Robin Hood was an outlaw. Sometimes the line between good and evil is blurred and there is only just and unjust. What I’m asking is that you do what’s right. For once in your life put aside your ideals of personal gain and do something for the good of the many. The reward you get is far beyond anything you’d get doing the pitiful shit around here.
“So you want us to become your band of merrymen is that it?”
No, no subordination. Equality. I want you to work with me. I want us to work together. Like in the old days.
“Like when all this started?”
Exactly.
“I thought you got away from all that Tommy? I thought you left that all behind you.”
We never let go of where we’re from. It’s always somewhere inside of you. Sure I’ve changed, sure I’m a good guy, but I’m not asking you to do that. I’m not asking you to be good or bad, simply just. Take a little pride, have a little honour, that’s all.
“Everytime I see you, I think I should have shot you the moment I blinked. Everytime I get pulled into doing something that isn’t in my best interest. Isn’t in our best interest.”
This is, trust me.
“Why would I be so foolish as to do that Tommy?”
If you can’t trust family Will, who can you trust?
“That’s all I wanted to hear. What do you need us to do?”
Let me explain.
Sitting beside the man revealed to be named Will, Hookton begins to unfurl his plan, the scene fading into darkness.
Another few hours pass before Hookton, now stumbling slightly after having a few drinks at the bar, fumbles with his keys attempting to enter his own house. The door swings open, revealing his beautiful wife, wearing nothing more than a bathrobe.
“You stink like smoke Thom.”
I can explain.
“How’s Will?”
Will? Oh he’s good, great actually. We concocted a plan.
“You’re drink aren’t you?”
Pff, not drunk, maybe I’ve had a few. Let’s say buzzed.
“You must be, no one says concocted.”
Fair, but what until I tell you about what we have in store for Craig Christ and VCW.
“You’re serious about this aren’t you?”
Like radical electro-shock therapy.
If Heaven Rides Against Us, Then Gods Be Damned. If Mortals Stand Before Us, Strike Them Down With Sleight Of Hand.
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Post by Great Nodnarb on Jun 28, 2008 11:59:36 GMT -5
Greatness? What makes me great? Sometimes I question my greatness. Does passing a stupid class really make you great? The Great Master gave me a diploma that said that I was great. That was a true honor from The Great Master. The Great Master basically raised me. I don’t remember my parents. I don’t really remember the first fifteen years of my life. The last six years, I have spent at The School of Greatness. I’ve taken tests over anything and everything. There was always one thing we tested on that excited me though. That thing was wrestling. I would study wrestling for hours on end. It was the only thing that really interested me. I trained every day so that one day I could become a pro wrestler. Nodnarb? People wonder why my name is Nodnarb. Well, I was told my real name was Brandon Black. I told them that was boring. I ceased being Brandon Black. I became Nodnarb which is Brandon backwards for people who are dumb. I also get asked why I wear a mask. Am I ugly? It would depend on somebody’s point of view. No, I just wanted to stand out from the crowd. The mask makes me stand out from the crowd. I also read that some wrestlers wore masks. It makes them more mysterious. That is what I want to be. Mysterious. I remember going through The School of Greatness. As you could have guessed, I was the weird guy in class. Nobody was my friend. I didn’t want any friends. The only thing I wanted to be was great. Everybody hated me because I had the best grades in class. I would have hated me too. I’m a strange man. I love boasting to everybody that I am great. I feel that if you put the word great in front of something then it will be greater. Chris Austin is a rapist from what I hear. That means nothing too me. If he would say that he was a great rapist, then he would have something. The word great just makes things sound so much cooler. I also get asked why do I run to the ring. I do it because it is fun. It is also a challenge. I go out there to beat my record time each and every week. Plus, a well known wrestler used to run to the ring. I bet I could outrun that guy any day of the week though. I’m also a better wrestler than that guy. I remember when I first heard about VCW. It was a new place for new wrestlers to show what they were made of. I remember seeing the first show and saying maybe I should get in on this. I got a contract and they put me in the World title tournament. I have to admit that I wasn’t ready for the match as was put in. I thought I did well though for my first match. I did get pinned though. The guy who pinned me though is still in the tournament. I will be rooting for him to take the VCW World title. My next match was at 1.3. I believe it was a four team tag match. My memory is terrible. My partner was Captain Courage and he will be one of my opponents at Crimson Dawn. It was a fun match. We didn’t win. Chris Austin and iSav won the match. Our team wasn’t the team that got pinned though. I just remember that being one big clusterfuck. My last match at 1.4 was fun. I fought iSav. I actually beat the guy. Some people will debate that I won because Captain Courage was there. I call those people ignorant to how great I am. I won that match on my own. It doesn’t take much to beat iSav or should I say iSuck. Now, we are at Crimson Dawn. It is live from New Orleans, Louisiana. It will be the first ever pay per view from Vendetta Championship Wrestling. I am honored to be on the show. It should be a great night of action all around.. We have two titles on the line and other exciting matches. The match everybody is excited for though is a great triple threat match. The combatants are Captain Courage, iSuck, and “The Greatest Wrestler on the Earth” The Great Nodnarb. The match will be so fucking epic. It will blow people’s minds. Everybody watching will have witnessed the greatest wrestling match ever. My opponents probably won’t go down easy. I know Captain Courage will never give up. He doesn’t like to cheat though and that will be his downfall. You have to do whatever it takes to win. I don’t mind Courage but I’m sorry that I have to beat him at Crimson Dawn. iSuck, well he sucks. Nobody cares that he is sadistic. I think one time he said he would rip my spine out. How are you going to win a match like that? He’s more likely to get arrested. I’ve beaten this idiot before and it will be my pleasure to do it again. Courage and I will probably dispose of him early. After iSuck is disposed of, me and Courage will see who is the better man. VCW management threw in a little bonus for the winner of the triple threat match. The winner gets to face the Sanguine Champion at 2.1. It sounds fun to beat the Sanguine Champion right after he wins it. I have to say that I am happy that I’m not in the match at Crimson Dawn. Whoever wins that match will be easy pickings for me at 2.1. So if you are Chris Austin, Mortus, Anon Ehmus, Cain Ravid, Gregory Best, or Andrew Carpenter, then you better watch out. I will take the Sanguine title at 2.1. You know I would look pretty stupid if I lost my match at Crimson Dawn. I don’t find Captain Courage and iSuck to be much of a threat though. Those two couldn’t even beat me on my best day. (Nodnarb hears a knock on the door.)
Nodnarb: Who could that be?
(Nodnarb opens the door to see Mr. McFeely from Mister Rogers Neighborhood.)
McFeely: Speedy Delivery, Mr. Nodnarb.
Nodnarb: You have some mail for me today.
McFeely: I have a letter to you.
Nodnarb: A letter? I wonder who it’s from.
McFeely: You’ll just have to find out.
Nodnarb: Thank you, Mr. McFeely.
McFeely: It was my pleasure and remember to wear a sweater to remember the life of Mr. Rogers.
Nodnarb: I will.
McFeely: Speedy Delivery!!!I wonder who would send me a letter. I’m kind of afraid to open it. It’s a mysterious looking letter. The address on it is pretty funky. I guess I’ll have to read it though. Maybe I won some money. Dear Nodnarb,
I know all about your past before your tenure at The School of Greatness. Do you want to know what happened your first fifteen years of life? Do you want to know where your parents are? I can tell you everything you need to know. You will have a price to pay for this information. You will have to meet me at the address on the letter. The house is a creepy old warehouse. I thought that would be a cool place to meet.
Sincerely, I can’t tell you my name Wow, this guy knows more about me than I do. I must go meet him at this warehouse. Hopefully, he will tell me where my parents live. I’ve been wanting to know that for six years. I think I might become very good friends with this guy that gave me this letter. I’m sure all he wants to do is help me out. Why else would he send me this letter? I don’t think he wants financial gain. I’m so excited right now. I’m so excited that I could win at Crimson Dawn in ten seconds so I could head to this warehouse. Courage and iSuck won’t get in my way of becoming Sanguine Champion. I won’t allow it. Those two don’t deserve to win like I do. They don’t deserve anything. They are just two crazy idiots who know nothing. Greatness? I am greatness. I am the greatest thing ever to walk Earth. I define greatness. I will prove my greatness at Crimson Dawn when I win that triple threat match. I will then prove my greatness again when I win the Sanguine Championship at 2.1. I am great.
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Cain Ravid
Lower Midcarder
"Not so; if anyone kills Cain, he will suffer vengeance seven times over."
Posts: 106
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Post by Cain Ravid on Jun 29, 2008 9:38:07 GMT -5
VCW presents Crimson Dawn from the Louisiana Superdome in New Orleans, Louisiana
Bmore vs. Bright
Minutes to Midnight Match for the VCW Sanguine Championship Andrew Carpenter vs. Anon Ehmus vs. Cain Ravid vs. Chris Austin vs. Gregory Best vs. Mortus
Triple Threat Match Captain Courage vs. iSav vs. the Great Nodnarb
Mystery Misfit Challenge Drew Michaels vs. Random Misfit
Craig Christ vs. Romeo McCoy
Fatal Fourway Match for the VCW World Heavyweight Championship Eric Ares vs. Sir Feyd Brisbane vs. Magnum vs. Thomas Hookton
PROMO ONLY until Friday, June 27 11:59 PM PST. VOTING AND PROMO until Sunday, June 29 11:59 PM PST.
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Post by Mortus on Jun 29, 2008 10:19:14 GMT -5
Bright
Minutes to Midnight Match for the VCW Sanguine Championship: Mortus
Triple Threat Match: the Great Nodnarb
Mystery Misfit Challenge Drew Michaels
Romeo McCoy
Fatal Fourway Match for the VCW World Heavyweight Championship Magnum
Votes based on promos, and personally opinions on what will result in interesting storylines in the future.
Votes will probably not be changed in time for the deadline, though I'll try my best.
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Post by bmore on Jun 29, 2008 11:54:31 GMT -5
Bmore vs. Bright well gotta vote for yourself
Minutes to Midnight Match for the VCW Sanguine Championship Andrew Carpenter vs. Anon Ehmus vs. Cain Ravid vs. Chris Austin vs. Gregory Best vs. Mortus * really hard one to pick as i enjoyed all the promos so far
Triple Threat Match Captain Courage vs. iSav vs. the Great Nodnarb no other promos, vote could change
Mystery Misfit Challenge Drew Michaels vs. Random Misfit *
Craig Christ vs. Romeo McCoy
Fatal Fourway Match for the VCW World Heavyweight Championship Eric Ares vs. Sir Feyd Brisbane vs. Magnum vs. Thomas Hookton
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Austin
Lower Midcarder
Posts: 172
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Post by Austin on Jun 29, 2008 12:25:35 GMT -5
Bright vs. Bmore
Minutes to Midnight Match for the VCW Sanguine Championship Andrew Carpenter vs. Anon Ehmus vs. Cain Ravid vs. Chris Austin vs. Gregory Best vs. Mortus
Triple Threat Match Captain Courage vs. iSav vs. the Great Nodnarb
Mystery Misfit Challenge Drew Michaels vs. Random Misfit *
Craig Christ vs. Romeo McCoy
Fatal Fourway Match for the VCW World Heavyweight Championship Eric Ares vs. Sir Feyd Brisbane vs. Magnum vs. Thomas Hookton
Subject to Change
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Post by Great Nodnarb on Jun 29, 2008 13:25:12 GMT -5
VCW presents Crimson Dawn from the Louisiana Superdome in New Orleans, Louisiana
Bmore vs. Bright
Minutes to Midnight Match for the VCW Sanguine Championship Andrew Carpenter vs. Anon Ehmus vs. Cain Ravid vs. Chris Austin vs. Gregory Best vs. Mortus *
Triple Threat Match Captain Courage vs. iSav vs. the Great Nodnarb *
Mystery Misfit Challenge Drew Michaels vs. Random Misfit *
Craig Christ vs. Romeo McCoy
Fatal Fourway Match for the VCW World Heavyweight Championship Eric Ares vs. Sir Feyd Brisbane vs. Magnum vs. Thomas Hookton
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cc
Developmental Talent
Posts: 37
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Post by cc on Jun 29, 2008 15:25:46 GMT -5
Captain Courage is at a gym not too far away from the Superdome in New Orleans. Courage is currently doing push ups and as usual he has Mighty Sock on his hand.
Courage: One thousand, two thousand, three thousand annnnd done. There I did three thousand push ups in three seconds, nobody can beat me.
Sock: I have to give it to you, you are actually training like you said you where going to do. Of course its still bullshit but its better than nothing. Now how about actually doing three thousand push ups.
Courage: As inventor of the push up, I am allowed to change the rules how I see fit. So from now on three push ups are three thousand push ups which makes me a winner and you a loser. Maybe one day you can beat someone awesome like me but that wont happen because I'm one of a kind.
Sock: Right before your ego gets so big that it makes your head explode, how about we talk about your up coming match at Crimson Dawn.
Courage: Well it is clear that I'm going to win because I have never lost a match ever in VCW unlike my fellow opponents. I was also the first person to get a pin in VCW along with being the only person out of me and Nodnarb to beat iSav without cheating. Also dont forget that I have the Triple C Title too, which I won in my first ever match.
Sock: Now out of all that the only thing you never made up was the first pin in VCW.
Courage: Correction, I also never made up the part about me being the only person to beat iSav without cheating. If you remember I came down and helped Nodnarb beat iSav since it was clear that he was not going to win. I feel sorry for him you see because he knows regardless of how great he is, I'm even greater.
Sock: The worrying thing there is most of that is true except for you being greater than Nodnarb since you have to beat him first. All of the stuff you said that was made up clearly isnt true because you just admitted it so why in the hell did you even mention it.
Courage: See this is where I am one hundred percent better than everyone in VCW. What I do is make stuff up and post it on the Internet. Then along comes a wrestling mark and they believe what I say and it becomes true. Oh and the statement about me being the VCW Champion is now completely true too because I have made the Triple C Title.
Captain Courage gets out a replica WWE spinner belt from his gym bag but instead of the WWE logo it has two C's in the middle.
Courage: May I introduce you to the Captain Courage Championship. I will take on all challengers, I will even let my fans challenge me for my awesome creation.
Sock:Is this all you going to do all day, brag about a bullshit title?
Courage: Yes that is exactly right and its not bullshit its awesome. Now if you would excuse me, I need to get back to my push ups. Four thousand, five thousand, six thousand......
Courage continues to do his push ups as the scene fades to black.
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Bright
Developmental Talent
Watching. Waiting. Ever So Patient
Posts: 39
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Post by Bright on Jun 29, 2008 20:35:00 GMT -5
VCW presents Crimson Dawn from the Louisiana Superdome in New Orleans, Louisiana
Bmore vs. Bright
Minutes to Midnight Match for the VCW Sanguine Championship Andrew Carpenter vs. Anon Ehmus vs. Cain Ravid vs. i vs. Gregory Best vs. Mortus *
Triple Threat Match Captain Courage vs. iSav vs. the Great Nodnarb *
Mystery Misfit Challenge Drew Michaels vs. Random Misfit *
Craig Christ vs. Romeo McCoy
Fatal Fourway Match for the VCW World Heavyweight Championship Eric Ares vs. Sir Feyd Brisbane vs. Magnum vs. Thomas Hookton
* - Whoever possesses the title at the end of the match is the champion. The title can change hands by first blood, then by pinfall or submission.
* - Whoever wins the match will be the new #1 contender for the Sanguine Championship and will receive a championship match at VCW Live 2.1.
* - The mystery Misfit has the option of revealing his identity in his promo.
PROMO ONLY until Friday, June 27 11:59 PM PST. VOTING AND PROMO until Sunday, June 29 11:59 PM PST.[/center][/quote]
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Post by kennithnoisewater on Jun 30, 2008 1:02:16 GMT -5
VCW presents Crimson Dawn from the Louisiana Superdome in New Orleans, Louisiana
Bmore vs. Bright
Minutes to Midnight Match for the VCW Sanguine Championship Andrew Carpenter vs. Anon Ehmus vs. Cain Ravid vs. Chris Austin vs. Gregory Best vs. Mortus *
Triple Threat Match Captain Courage vs. iSav vs. the Great Nodnarb *
Mystery Misfit Challenge Drew Michaels vs. Random Misfit *
Craig Christ vs. Romeo McCoy
Fatal Fourway Match for the VCW World Heavyweight Championship Eric Ares vs. Sir Feyd Brisbane vs. Magnum vs. Thomas Hookton
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Post by Sir Feyd Brisbane on Jun 30, 2008 11:47:41 GMT -5
The time is now, we go to wage war against the enemy I am the champion, the defender of all humanity With vengeance I will ride upon you all
I am immortal, wielder of steel, a war machine I am the leader, the one who will lead you to victory I am the hero, blood and destruction are my deeds I am eternal, fight to the last
Feyd found himself sitting in a tavern, unable to recall how he had come to be there. He looked around, running his fingers along the grain of the wooden countertop idly. Ribbons of dim light peering in through the windows told him that it was midmorning, and he wondered what he was doing at a bar while the world went on around him.
Outside, he could hear the hustle and bustle of life as the throngs of people he adored watching went about their business. He could hear the whinnying of horses and children's laughter. And on the wind, he could hear the ominous song of a bard in the distance. Feyd turned his attention to the barkeep, who gave him a slightly disinterested look. "What are you doing here, Sir Knight?"
Feyd looked at the man quizzically. Apparently the man was lacking in regard to the hospitality of his patrons. Nonetheless, he replied, "Honestly sir, I can't say that I'm quite sure." He paused, "Out of curiosity, why do you ask?" Then, as an afterthought, he added, "And how did you know I was a knight?"
“The armor gives you away…”
Feyd looked down at himself. Sure enough, he was wearing a black breastplate over leather armor, polished to a high sheen. He grinned sheepishly.
“In regard to your other question, I was forced to close my tavern after King Ryan raised taxes again. The doors have actually been locked for two days now, so I’m at a loss as to how you even got in…”
Feyd looked around the tavern, now noticing the lack of the usually dregs that should have been milling around. The only other occupants were the shadow wraiths upon the walls, dancing to the whim of the flickering fireplace. “So, why does King Ryan keep raising taxes?”
“I don’t think I knew of a king who handled money more poorly than does he. He keeps draining the common man dry so that he can drinks tonics of vinegar and crushed diamonds, so that he can lay in a bed of spun gold. And we suffer because of it. First he taxes us on our property, and for me it’s higher because I run a business off my property. We have no brewery in the town, so he imposed an import tariff and now I have to pay him ten per cent of all the goods I bring in. Then he instituted a sales tax, of 400 gold per month, regardless of how much I make. On top of that, we have to pay dividends for the local law enforcement and constabulary. The man is a damn criminal!”
“Well, where I am from, despotic rulers hardly last through the night. It sounds like what you need is a good old-fashioned uprising. “
“The people are too complacent. Sure, they’re unhappy, but they’re also unmotivated.”
“Then perhaps you need to seek an audience with the king. Make him see that it’s more profitable for him to lower taxes so that in the long run he will gain more money.”
“I think that the reason has less to do with money, and more to do with the fact that I have been letting my tavern be used as a meeting hall for a society of indignant citizens who wish to overthrow the king. He’s trying to take my tavern in an attempt to quash rebellion before it breaks out.”
Feyd nodded to the man, thinking. A moment later, there was a loud knock on the door, then the sound of scuffling footsteps running away. Feyd arose from the seat, and walked to the door, opening it. Immediately on the threshold, a piece of parchment had been nailed there. He pulled out the nail with some effort and brought the parchment back inside, looking at it thoughtfully.
The barkeep looked down to the paper in Feyd’s hands, “What is it, Sir Knight?”
Feyd looked up to the man, grinning and said, “A quest…”
“I’m sorry Father! I wish I could take it back.” Feyd knelt before Sadric, who sat in his ebonwood throne. He grasped the hem of his father’s robes, but was pushed away with a foot.
“Feyd, this is not something you can take back! Your mother is dead! I swore you to me to protect her, and she died by your blade. I can never forgive you.” Sadric shook his head sadly, his once bright eyes, grayed over with depression. He stood from his seat, ready to step away from his only son.
“Father, please!” Feyd held onto his father’s robes, sobbing into them.
“I have nothing left to say to you. I expect your things to be gone come morning. You may take a horse, but you must leave this place.” He turned away from Feyd and walked toward the doorway.
“But what of the order? I need a sponsor to take the Test. Father, I beg you!” Feyd cried out, scrambling to his feet, and following his father. He reached him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
Sadric turned abruptly, a raised arm batting his son away and knocking him to the floor. “You will never be a knight! As I live and breathe, you will never be a knight. You will never even be a man! I wash my hands of you, Feyd.” He began to the doorway again, but was intercepted by the seneschal, who blocked his way.
“Move aside, Treynor.”
The old man stood his ground to his liege. “Sadric, take pity on the boy. He is but twelve. You cannot send him away. How would it look? The people will revolt when they hear of this.”
“I cannot live under the same roof as the one who killed Lysa.”
“He could not have known it was her. Even you have made such mistakes. Remember Palin?”
“Never speak of Palin, if you wish to keep your tongue. You have been with the family for a long time, and we have come to be friends, but never speak his name again. Else I shall have to send you away as I am him.”
Having forced away his tears, Feyd was on his feet again. “Do not do this, Father. I will do anything for you. I shall fall on my sword for you, if be it your wish.”
Sadric simply looked over his shoulder at him. “You lack the honor and conviction for such a death, childe.”
“Sadric, he is your son.”
“I have no son….”
The army’s ready, the battle banner high upon my lance The sword and armor will be my only brothers when I ride The sound of battle horns will start the fight
I am immortal, wielder of steel, a war machine I am the leader, the one who will lead you to victory I am the hero, blood and destruction are my deeds I am eternal, fight to the last
A myriad of asundry men had gathered in the courtyard. Feyd looked to them as he rode up with his new companion, “A motley group, wouldn’t you say, Thom?”
The barkeep nodded slightly, “I wonder what sort of task the king wishes us to perform to be offering such a handsome reward.”
“Who knows? But for such a price, it must be very lucrative. And no doubt many of these men wish to take the money to aid their own woes much like you. Imagine; you could reopen your tavern and never have to worry about taxes again. By Paladine, you could build a brewery right here in town.” The steel footfalls of his horse echoed off the cobblestones as they entered the gate.
He looked over the men as they approached. Truly, they were a strange bunch. One of them was a freak, formed from two bodies that seemed fused together. At first, Feyd had thought it was an ettin, but realized it was much too small to be a giant. His sword hand eased. Another man was followed by a man, appeared to be his valet. He carried a large wooden box over his shoulder and always faced him. He saw the gleam of glass or a gem from a protrusion on the box. It was a very queer sight, for neither man seemed to have any weapons. Surely they would need some protection, as the large reward that the quest garnered was obviously one of danger.
In the corner, he saw a man with no shirt, who wore short britches. He wore a small dagger at his side and had cumbersome leather gloves bound to his hands, and a leather skullcap atop his head. He could see the man speaking, but there was no one around him. Feyd concluded that the man must be the resident fool.
The sun shone down brightly in the courtyard as two large doors to the overlooking balcony opened. A contingent of guards rushed out, decked in chain mail coifs and metal helmets. They moved to the edges of the balcony, nocking their arrows, should anyone make an attempt on the king. A moment later, a man stepped out, the slow, confident stride of a man who knows no fear. He wore a rich black velvet brocade embroidered with gold and silver thread. A long red cloak flailed behind him in the slight breeze as he rested his arms on the battlement.
He spoke, “I assume that you all have come here at my behest. All of those who have not come here to try their hand at my request, get the hell out of my courtyard, or I shall have you arrested for trespassing.”
A few men wandered out of the courtyard, unwilling to be the unwitting victims in King Ryan’s dungeon. Feyd watched as the sullied men left, noting the arrows trained upon them. He shook his head slightly and looked back up to the tyrant.
Then, from out of the crowd of men, a raving man rushed toward the balcony. He wielded a sword, brandishing it wildly, and singing in a crazy voice:
Now the time has come for me To raise my sword against all thee And then the spell shall soon be cast You're doomed to fall beneath my axe I'll banish evil from this land A newborn king will overcome I'll be the scythe to cut you down I'll be the fire to burn you down Conquest is mine into the fight Screaming the battlecry! Screaming the battlecry Running with vengeance in my eyes Not one of you will survive
The man continued, ascending the stone walls to the balcony. Guards swarmed beneath, firing arrows at the climbing man, which flitted off his armor and bounced away harmlessly. He reached the top of the balcony and was immediately met with the blade of King Ryan thrust deep in his gut. The king shook his head and let the man fall down to the courtyard with a sickening crack.
“Now that that has been settled, let me take this time to thank you brave men for coming forward to aid me in my hour of need. As you all know, the reward for performing this task for me is fifteen thousand gold pieces, and a kingly pardon for any prior transgressions.”
An excited murmur ran through the crowd of men who remained, overtaking the whistle of the wind. After a time, the din subsided and the king continued. “Far to the east lies an enemy fortress. The men of the Wizard of Ous recently sneaked into the castle here and stolen a prized possession of mine. I want it back.”
He continued to speak as some of the men began dragging the would-be assassin away. A crimson trail marked the stones of the walk, glistening in the midday sun.
“The men of Ous have stolen my prized belt. If it were a normal belt, I would let the slight go unpunished. However, the belt is gold and encrusted with jewels. The leader of the Ous is a man who calls himself The Wizard and had sent a letter of ransom for it. One of you must retrieve the belt and bring it back to me. Whoever does shall be rewarded as I have informed you. Go now.”
The men dispersed, and Feyd and Thom went to ready themselves.
As they were leaving the village, the fool ran up to them. “Wait, wait! I want to go with you. We stand a better chance if there are more of us, right?” He then looked at the two men’s horses, smiling at them and petting them roughly with a gloved hand.
Feyd looked at Thom, who shrugged noncommittally. “I suppose we can have you come along. What’s your name?”
The man gazed up at them, wiping spittle off his face with a glove. The leather skullcap slid down over his eyes and the man stumbled, falling against the horse. Feyd reached down and pushed the man’s helmet back into place.
“My name is Conrad. I’m a fighter. A good one. Wanna see me box with someone? Pick anyone. I’ll whip ‘em.”
“That’s quite unnecessary. It is nice to meet your acquaintance, Conrad. I’m Feyd, and this is Thom.” He extended his hand down to the man, who shook it rather violently. Conrad then proceeded to sidle around the horses and shook Thom’s hand as well. As he did, Feyd turned to him.
“Thom, what is the quickest way to Ous?”
After shaking the strange man’s hand for what seemed like forever, Thom looked to Feyd, replying, “That depends, Feyd. The emerald city lies to the east. However, there is a great swamp between Ous and here. The easiest route would be to go north. Unfortunately, it is quite hilly and we would have to go about two days out of our way. The swamp is quite treacherous, but we can make good time if we are careful not to get bogged down. No doubt the others will travel through the hills, but few would dare to enter the swamp.”
“If you want your tavern back, I think it would be best to travel through the swamp. If we make it there, that is good and we can always take the hills back with the belt.” Feyd smiled morosely then added, “And if we die, then your financial troubles will be no more.”
“To the swamp then…”
The trio made their way out of the city and began eastward on the billowing plains.
Charles sat in the dark of his room, writing under the light cast from beneath his door. He had been randomly rolling his dice for hours, the monotone of the dice on the steel floor strangely pleasing. He could feel the slow rock of the large ship, but the time when it had made him nauseous had long since passed. He had given up counting the days that he had been aboard. There was no point in it. The only way he would ever be able to leave the ship was in a body bag.
There was a knock. Charles stopped writing, looking up. His eyes fixed on the shadow that crept beneath the door. The eerie white outline of the door reminded him of something he had seen in a movie as a child. He held his breath.
“Charles, it’s Jack.”
He let out a sigh of relief, and the door opened slowly. Petty Officer Jack Agguire entered, closing the door behind him and flipping on the light switch. Charles winced as the ambient light assaulted his eyes. After a moment, he adjusted to the light and looked up at the man who was the closest he had to a friend on the godforsaken ship.
“You shouldn’t write in the dark. It can cause eye damage from the strain.”
Charles shrugged and sat up, moving his dice aside. “I don’t much need my eyes here, Jack.”
“One day you’re going to get out of here. And when you do, I have no doubt that you will make these guys pay for what they have done. But come on Chuck, you need to take care of yourself. Once you’re on the outside, you’re going to need your eyes.”
“I’ll never get out of here. And even if I did, I can get glasses.”
“You’re stubborn… But I don’t blame you. Even so, believe me. You’ll get out of here.”
“Jack, you’re wrong. I, Charles Knight am going to die on this ship. But at least you are here, and I can take comfort in the fact that I am harassed much less because of you. “ Charles gave a feeble smile to Jack, not noticing the perturbed look on the man’s face.
“I’m afraid I have some bad news for you, Charles.”
Charles jerked his head to attention. Before Jack had even spoken the words, he knew what they were, but was still struck dumb when he heard them.
“I’m being transferred off the Paladin.”
“When are you leaving?”
“Today.”
Hear the clash of swords The shout of the warriors fighting band to band Blow by blow, into the fight Blow by blow, I'm ready to strike
Presently, the unlikely trio came to the end of the vast plains. The land began sloping downward and below them they could see the tops of dead-looking trees, choked by mist. From within its depths, they could see intermittent flashes of orange.
Thom cocked his head to Feyd, “We have reached the Fire Swamp. We must proceed cautiously.”
Feyd nodded and began navigating his horse down the treacherous slope. The other two followed suit, Thom behind Feyd and Conrad at the rear. After a few minutes of wary riding, the three reached the bottom of the valley. The noxious swamp stank so fiercely that Feyd’s eyes began to water. “Of all the nauseating bogs of the world, I believe we travel through the worst!”
A tremor of chuckles resonated through the companions as they entered the bog.
“We’re making good time, Sir Feyd.” Thom looked around, as though recognizing some milestone among the fog.
“Excellent…” Feyd choked out his reply, his nose and throat stung by the rising swamp vapors.
The ground was surprisingly firm, for a swamp. Feyd cast a wayside glance at to the surrounding area. It was as though the whole of the landscape had been covered in a gray film. He could hear the groan of the trees fighting to keep their last vestiges of strength to ward of the encroaching gases.
“This is quite a depressing place…” Feyd murmured.
“Yes,” Thom agreed, “It is a very sad place. They say that if you fall victim to the sorrow of the swamp, you will sink into its depths.”
Conrad, who had thus far been quiet on their journey (having busied himself cooing into the felt ear of his pony), spoke “Truly, Sir Feyd, they say that if the swamp makes you sad, you’ll become a part of it forever. And that the travelers in the swamp will hear your dying groans echoing forever!”
Feyd stole a look at Conrad, “Oh really now? Who says this, Conrad?”
“I don’t know… They.”
Feyd shook his head, “Well, I’m not one to put much stock into superstition. You will do well to do the same.”
Thom scoffed, “Oh really, knight? And what of your medallion to Paladine, if not superstition? To many, the old gods are little more than children’s stories.”
“Were I you, I would not be so cavalier with my tongue, friend. The light of Paladine shines through even such thick mists as these,” Feyd rebuked. “And he would be none to pleased to hear such a blasphemous invocation of his name. I know that he watches over me, for I have seen the majestic platinum dragon with mine own eyes.”
Thom fell silent, not wishing to argue with the knight. As much as he believed the knight’s ideology foolish, he had more than a suspicion that his steel was sharper than his mind.
They rode silently for some time, and when the ground turned into mud, they dismounted and began to lead their horses through the muck. Feyd took a deep breath, the rancor of the swamp no longer turning his stomach. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a cry from Conrad. He swerved his head to look upon him.
Conrad was bawling and pulling at his pony’s reins. “Come Artax,” he ejaculated, tugging with such ferocity that Feyd was certain he would break the young colt’s neck. Feyd moved to Conrad, placing his hands on the reins next to the man’s monstrous fists. He began to pull as well, whispering assurances both to the horse and to his companion.
“Artax, come!” Conrad pleaded. “Jump Artax! Please!” The large man’s voice began to crack as he yelled to his mount. They were joined by Thom, who was now tugging as well, and Feyd continued pulling alongside them, though the hope of retrieving the stuck pony was rapidly fading from his mind.
“Artax, keep trying! Don’t let the sadness of the swamp take you!”
The horse whinnied its reply, but was thoroughly entrenched in the mud. He began to sink further.
“Fight it Artax! Fight it! Please. Don’t leave me!”
The horse continued to sink.
“Stupid horse! Jump. Please Artax, keep trying. You can do it!” The horse whinnied again, rubbing his head over Conrad’s face, then plunged into the depths of the bog.
Conrad wept, and somewhere, in a dark attic, Bastion did the same.
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Post by Sir Feyd Brisbane on Jun 30, 2008 11:51:53 GMT -5
Oh, King of the dead I've waited so long to fight by your side And my sacrifice to you Are the souls of enemy knights Released by my sword
An arrow flies it bites my heart The steel is cold My blood spills out I can't believe it runs out red Immortal heart can feel no pain
Sadric tried to get past Treynor, his robes rustling as the hem ran along the stone floor. Yet Treynor continually interposed, attempting to appeal to the man’s paternal side. There was the sound of metal scraping across stone, and Sadric turned to see Feyd wielding a sword at him.
“How dare you bear a blade against me boychild! And my own sword, no less!” Sadric’s voice showed his agitation as he looked along the length of the pristine blade.
Quirking a brow, Feyd threw the sword to Sadric’s feet with a clang that echoed through the stony keep. He stepped back, and drew a fine blade from its mount on the wall. To a normal boy, it would have been quite unwieldy, but Feyd bore it with relative ease.
Sadric dipped down and picked up his sword, looking it over and then looking back to Feyd, who held his own sword at ready. “Well, what are you waiting for boy? Strike me down, if that be your challenge.”
Without words, Feyd moved forward, slashing downward at his father’s shoulder. Sadric swiveled his torso and lashed out with his own blade in a single fluid motion. A thin red line drew across Feyd’s adolescent bicep, and he fought the urge to cry out. He stepped back, recovering from the blow that had grazed him. He knew his father was toying with him. Angry, he charged at his father, slashing upward, across his torso, but was parried with a sweeping blade. A moment later, he felt the hard sole of his father’s boot crush his chest, sending him sprawled across the floor.
He hit the cold stone and his sword clattered out of his grip. He looked up to Sadric, fire in his eyes. Why does he play with me? He should strike me and be done with it! He rose to his feet and retrieved his sword, holding it steady in his right hand. The cut on his left arm was seeping with blood and he was sure that he had cracked a rib, for he wheezed every time he took a breath.
Sadric stood on the defense, looking at Feyd with detachment. Feyd moved forward, making a half slash and locking swords with his father. He could feel the brute strength of the man as he struggled with him, his hand bleeding where he gripped the blade. His father forced his arms up with a great push then swiped his sword down, marking a shallow cut into Feyd’s chest.
Feyd yowled like a wounded dog, and for a third time his father’s blade cut him. He was drained, and fell to his knees, his sword clanging to the ground, for he no longer had the strength to hold it. He looked up to Sadric, “Father, finish the deed.”
Sadric simply threw down his sword and a swift kick to Feyd’s chin sent him onto his back. “Murderers cannot be knights, and they certainly cannot be martyrs.” With that, Sadric turned on heel and left the room, pushing past Treynor, who rushed to Feyd’s side.
Feyd wept as his father left him lying on the floor, then began to lose his consciousness. His eyes blurred, and he heard the voice of Treynor. “Tomorrow, we shall leave this place.” Everything then faded to black.
The three companions continued forward through the Fire Swamp, making slow progress. They made their way through the murky water, Conrad crying silently over his lost horse. Thom and Feyd held the reins of their horses, guiding them through the swamp with care.
Feyd stopped, and listened, motioning for the other two to do the same. They stopped, and Feyd noted that Conrad had held his breath, no longer crying. He heard someone splashing through the water, and slowly turned, unsheathing his sword and peering hard into the mist.
The sound of water sloshing grew closer, and the other two heard it as well. Thom drew his sword as well, and Conrad now gripped his dagger tightly. They waited, and at long last, two silhouettes appeared in the fog, one of them carrying something rather cumbersome on his shoulder. He could hear the chattering excitement of one of them, and he left go of the reins in his left hand, gripping the lower portion of his sword’s haft, and pointing the blade at the shadows. “To our viewers out there, you are lucky that you can’t smell this terrible place. I don’t know how Benny made it all the way through here, but I’m glad he did, because what good is a reporter without his trusty cameraman?”
The two figures emerged from the mist and Feyd recognized them as two of the men he had seen in the courtyard. The man in front carried a small stick and spoke into it, continually looking back at the wooden box supported by his lackey’s shoulder. For a moment Feyd thought having labeled Conrad as the village fool was a bit premature. He shook his head slightly. Neither of the two men was armed, so he ignored them, and motioned for the other two to continue.
He sheathed his sword and began to lead his horse again, as did Thom, with Conrad lagging a bit. He heard a crackling sound and a moment later could see a bright flare through the fog. He listened carefully, tugging his horse along, but his concentration was broken as he heard one of the new men speaking.
“I am Oceandin, perhaps you may have heard of me? I once did an exposé on Greco-Roman wrestling where I actually joined up in a new circle to show it from the wrestler’s point of view. We gave out hundreds of pamphlets. I’m sure you read it. Anyway, what’s your name?” “My name is Conrad. I’m a boxer.”
“So what are you doing out here in the swamp? Are you trying to get the reward that King Ryans has offered?”
“Yeah. That’s a lot of money. Do you know how many horsies I could get with that?” Conrad grinned to the man, then to the big wooden box.
Feyd and Thom looked at each other and chuckled amongst themselves as the company continued through the swamp.
“Well, I imagine you could buy quite a few. But aren’t you afraid of the dangers of the swamp?”
“Not really. I mean, it’s easy to notice the lightning sand, and you can hear when the flame spurts are coming, so it’s not a problem. Besides, I am trying to find someone in here. I saw him come this way when we left the city.”
“Really? Who are you trying to find Conrad?”
“It’s this guy. He wears a striped shirt and this goofy hat. He calls himself Waldo. We play hide and seek, but he always wins, because he’s a lot better at hiding than I am.”
Thom continued laughing, shaking his head slightly. Feyd coughed and continued moving, his sword clanging against his side audibly as he treaded the water.
“It’s really dangerous to plays games here though.”
“No, like I said, it’s easy enough to get away from the sand and the flares.”
“What about the R.O.U.S.’s?”
Conrad began laughing, slapping his knees like a baffoon. “Rodents of Unusual Size? I don’t think they exist!” He continued laughing, the moved under a low branch of a tree. Immediately after, a dark form moved along the branch and leapt at him, latching onto his neck. He began screaming and punching at the creature that had its jaws clamped down on him.
Blood began pouring from Conrad’s neck, staining the water.
Benny had begun to set down the wooden box and was moving to help, but Oceandin shook his head. “Keep rolling Benny!.” He moved in front of Benny again, turning his back to Conrad, who ran back and forth.
“Oceandin, we should probably help him.” Already, Feyd and Thom were scrambling to Conrad, swords in hand, trying to find an open shot on the giant vermin.
“No. I have to be a professional. I can’t just run in. I have a duty to the public to maintain my journalistic integrity and not interfere with the news.” He turned for a moment, looking at Conrad’s struggles, “Get a close up on that, Benny.” Then he turned back, looking into the box, “You can see the marks where the giant rat has allegedly bitten into this poor man’s throat. It’s quite a shame. He could really use some ointment on that, if he survives.”
Feyd knocked Conrad to the moist ground, then stepped on the rodent, thrusting his sword down into it. He could hear the rumbling from beneath the ground, and rolled Conrad over. A moment later, a burst of flame shot up, setting the rodent ablaze, until the waters put out the fire. But by that time, the rat was already dead.
Conrad lay on the ground, and Feyd could see that on top of his neck wounds, his chest had been torn open. Conrad had his hand pressed against his torso as his heart began to slow. His eyes stared upward and he reached above himself with one hand, crying out, “I think I’m having a heart attack! You hear that Elizabeth? I’m coming to join you honey.” Then his eyes dulled.
Oceandin looked back at Conrad, “’Tis a sad day for retarded boxers everywhere. No ointment will help him with those wounds now. However, all you at home should know about Rodney’s Rodent Repellent. If you’ve got some with you, then you will fare much better than this man when you pass through the Fire Swamp. It’s available at Merle’s Apothecary. Get your supply now!”
From behind him, Benny scoffed, “So much for journalistic integrity.”
For all these years I’ve lived a lie Those wisemen words blinded my eyes A son of gods, immortal lords Now just the son Of mortal men
“And there’s nothing you can do?”
“I’m sorry Charles, but my hands are tied. I have to go. If I don’t willingly, then I am to be court-martialed.”
“How can they do that? You are the only one who has done no wrong!”
“Yeah, well, there are fifty-five other men on this ship who want things to change, if you know what I mean, and they will say what it takes to get me out of here. At least this way, I can keep my career.”
Charles glared at his friend, “Yeah, go away from here and forget what is being done. Great job!” He was seething in anger, and knew that it wasn’t Jack’s fault, but he just needed to be angry at someone.
“You know it’s not like that Charles, I have no choice. If I had more time, I would have tried to find a way to smuggle you out of here, but that’s probably why they made the order so suddenly. I’m sorry. But you need to be strong.”
“That’s easy for a deserter to say!”
Charles felt the stinging across his face as Jack’s hand lashed out. “Never say that Charles.”
Charles gave Jack a look of betrayal, his eyes watering from the pain, “You need to go now.”
“I’m so-“ Jack started.
“Go.”
Lowering his head, Jack turned and left the room. Charles got up and turned off the light. He curled up on his tiny cot and slept.
Time passed.
The door opened. “Stop sleeping, you lazy bastard!”
Charles was awakened by a steel-toed kick to his stomach. He immediately shot up, gasping for breath. Three sailors were in his room, looking down at him. Without words, one of them grabbed either arm and the third one proceeded to beat the living hell out of him. He passed out from the pain.
When he finally awoke, he lay in a pool of blood, sweat and semen. His body ached and his head felt heavy. One eye was bruised shut and his hand hurt when he moved it, as though his fingers had been crushed. He fought back the urge to scream when the pain stabbed through his hand as he peeled the bloodstained clothes from his body.
After the excruciating task of cleaning himself up and changing into new clothes, he stood. His legs wobbled and he felt very unsteady. His skull throbbed and the bright light from his ceiling hurt his eyes. He stumbled to the wall to flick off the light, his feet scuffing. He reached the wall and the instant before his hand touched the panel, the door opened quickly, knocking him to the ground.
A man peered in at him, “Get up, it’s time for you to get some fresh air. You smell like you’ve been living an a gully of your own filth. You’ve got fifteen minutes up on the deck. Starting now.”
It took two minutes to walk to the stairwell and another two before he was on the deck. It was dark out, the moon hanging so low he could have touched it. Eleven minutes of freedom. He breathed in the salty air and coughed. He was so used to breathing the musty air of the cargo room he had been in that the fresh air of the night assaulted him. He had a coughing fit for about three minutes.
When he finally recovered, he stared up into the sky. The cold light from the heavenly bodies above fell upon the deck, casting shadows everywhere. There were two men on the deck with him, one on either side of the ship. He felt the cool sea breeze dance over his skin and fetched the kind of sigh that a sailor does when he thinks about his girl back home. But his home did not exist, and the girl he thought of was his freedom, which was even more elusive.
“You’ve got five minutes shithead!” The man then grumbled something about having to be up on the deck in the middle of the night guarding the punching bag.
Charles paid no heed and moved to the edge of the ship, leaning up against the railing. He looked down into the black ocean waters. He smiled. It was so easy. He just stood there, staring lovingly to the foamheads rising up against the ship.
“Okay, time to go back now!” The two men started toward him, strolling casually as they shot the breeze.
Charles looked back at them, then turned back to the sir.
“I said it’s time to go!” The tone of anger rose on the man’s voice and the two were pulling out their pocketknives, figuring to bloody him up for ignoring them.
They had almost reached him when he threw himself overboard. They ran the last few steps tot he edge and looked down in time to see his body plunge into the water.
The company of four now stood near the edge of the swamp. They looked to a hill in the distance, upon which stood a castle with glittering green stones embedded into its walls. The structure scintillated in the morning light.
Spending the night in the swamp had not been a pleasant experience. They had stepped out of the bog some time ago and still the smell of the murky waters had yet to dissipate. It looked to be about an hour’s walk to the castle, so it had been decided that they would walk, since it would give some time for the smell to fade away. Otherwise, there would be no element of surprise.
They trudged along slowly, confident that the four of them were at lest two days ahead of anyone else who had decided to go to the city. After a time, Thom began to speak to Oceandin, inquiring about the man’s companion of the cumbersome wooden box he carried.
“’Tis a fairybox. He aims it at me and captures my likeness, then transmits the image all over the world. That is how I inform everyone of all the goings-on of the country. It’s quite brilliant, if I do say so myself.”
“Interesting…”
Feyd had been keeping to himself, and after the exchange with Oceandin, Thom had decided to as well. They continued on in silence, when suddenly Feyd heard a crash from behind him. He turned, and saw Oceandin stopped over the remains of the wooden box. When the man rose from the ground, he bore a sword and slashed it wildly at him.
Feyd stepped back, unsheathing his own sword, and casting an eye to Thom, who had nocked an arrow, training it on Oceandin. He held his sword firmly and watched as the man’s hands twitched and he struck again. Feyd brought up his sword to block then curved his blade down and cut a groove into the man’s tunic. His blade caught resistance and after a moment, he realized that the man wore armor beneath.
Undaunted, Feyd stared the man down, “It does not have to come to this, Oceandin. Lay down your sword and I shall forget that you made an attempt on me.”
The man laughed, throwing up his sword arm wildly. “No, we are at the city now, and you shall not bring back the belt. The prize shall be mine! There can be only one!”
He rushed forward, bringing his sword downward at Feyd, when he stumbled. Thom’s arrow had found its mark, burrowed in the leather armor the man wore. Taking the initiative, Feyd slashed horizontally, decapitating the man unceremoniously. He then looked around. Benny was no where to be seen.
He looked to Thom and shook his head, “It seems that we have been travelling with nothing but crazies.”
“It would appear so Feyd. However, I did like Conrad, it is a shame to have left him in the swamp.”
“Aye, but there is nothing to be done about it. We would have been caught in the bog trying to get him out.”
The two nodded to each other and mounted their horses, riding on to the city.
Oh the battle is near the end My body lies on the blood stained sand All I hear are cries of pain All I see are my friends before me
Heroes in tears Heroes in tears Heroes in tears Heroes in tears
Charles lay on a barren cot in the sick bay. His body had a gray tint, as though he was deprived of life, which was not too far off the mark. When they finally fished him out of the cold night waters, he had turned blue form the cold. He had no doubt drowned and his entire body felt waterlogged. They had dragged him into the sick bay after resuscitating him momentarily on the deck. His breathing was shallow and weak, his pulse, virtually nonexistent. Then it gave out.
He was dead for six minutes. They tried their damnedest to revive him, because they could never explain away a dead kid. When his heart and brain finally kicked back in, he lay there, unmoving, his breathing still weak, but steady. He lay there for three days before they brought him back into his little room and locked the door.
Now my destiny is revealed I am Fate’s soldier to eternal war The gates of time will spread open wide Mortal in body, eternal in will
Feyd and Thom had finally reached the city. The gates were closed. The knocked loudly on the gate and a small door opened in the middle. A small face peered out, “What business have ye here?”
Feyd spoke up, “We bring word to the Wizard of a large force of soldier sent here by King Ryans.”
A looked of fear drew over the man’s visage. “Oh, Lordy me, come in, by all means.”
The gate opened and Feyd looked to Thom. Neither of them said anything, but the both understood. It was much too easy. They were led through the castle-city and into the gate of the castle, almost getting lost in the amorphous crowds that milled about. The small man moved quickly, and it was all they could do to keep their eyes on him, lest they find themselves without him. Finally, they were admitted to the antechamber of the castle.
They stood for a moment, then the man motioned to a large doorway at the far end of the room. He did not speak but kept pointing to the doorway. They nodded and walked through, their footsteps echoing loudly against the stone walls.
They heard a booming voice, “Who dares disturb the great and powerful Wizard of Ous?”
The voice seemed to come from everywhere. They looked around, sword hands twitching slightly.
A figure stepped out from behind a curtain at their side. He wore a shirt embroided with the words, ‘Thou art lesser than I.’ He looked at them, noting their weapons and walked towards them, “No really, why the hell are you here? You’ve disturbed my wenches.”
Feyd cocked his eyebrow at the man, “You’re the wizard?”
“Call me Ares. I am the wizard of war. What do you want?”
“We have been sent by King Ryans to retrieve his jeweled belt, for he says that it was stolen by your men. Give it to us willingly, and we will not have to use our steel.”
“No.”
Thom looked at Feyd, then to Ares, “There is no need for further bloodshed. Give us the sword so that we may leave you to your harem.”
Ares looked back at the curtain longingly, “I wont give the belt back. It was a gift.”
“You speak lies!” Thom grew irritated, his face tinting red.
“No. King Ryans wants you troublemakers dead. He gave the belt to me. He said that I earned his graces being such a great warrior as I am. And I am to kill whoever comes here for the belt.”
“That conniving son of a bitch!”
Feyd looked to Thom when he swore, a bit surprised, as thus far, the man had seemed very reserved. He then looked at Ares. “It is battle then…” He moved his hand to his sword.
“Not yet. What sort of man would I be if I just fought you now? You are obviously tired from your long journey, and form the smell of you, it was through the swamp, so I shall let you retire to bathe and rest. That way, when I kill you, you will know why my name is Ares, and why I am the best.”
Feyd nodded, “Tomorrow then…”
Doomed to be called with many names Doomed to have many shapes And doomed to be forever at war And go wherever I’m called
He could feel the slight rock of the ship as it sat unmanned on the rolling waves. They had docked for the night, but he had stayed on the ship, under lock and key. Though he had long grown accustomed to it, it did not matter. Tonight was not like any of the other nights. He tossed and turned on his cot, tortured by grotesque dreams.
He awoke with a clear mind. He sat up and looked around the bare cell. He went to the door, and tried to open it, but it was locked from the outside. He stood there, and knocked on the door. A moment later, he could hear the click of the lock and the door slowly creaked open.
No longer was he confined! Only a single man stood between him and freedom. The officer who was at his door examined him, “What do you need, Charles?”
He looked over the man. Atop his head was a white hat with a blue brim. He wore a blue uniform with six shiny brass buttons down the front. On his left breast, asundry medals. At his hip, a sword. A sword…
He formed his words with effort. “I do not know who this Charles is. My name is Feyd.”
Where will I go? TO FIGHT! For what? TO FIGHT! To fight for what? TO FIGHT! For what?
Eternal Champion, doomed to fight Forever FOREVER!
(Lyrics: 'Eternal Champion' by Domine)
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Post by Mike Forrest on Jun 30, 2008 18:59:59 GMT -5
VCW presents Crimson Dawn from the Louisiana Superdome in New Orleans, Louisiana
Bmore vs. Bright
Minutes to Midnight Match for the VCW Sanguine Championship Andrew Carpenter vs. Anon Ehmus vs. Cain Ravid vs. Chris Austin vs. Gregory Best vs. Mortus *
Triple Threat Match Captain Courage vs. iSav vs. the Great Nodnarb *
Mystery Misfit Challenge Drew Michaels vs. Random Misfit *
Craig Christ vs. Romeo McCoy
Fatal Fourway Match for the VCW World Heavyweight Championship Eric Ares vs. Sir Feyd Brisbane vs. Magnum vs. Thomas Hookton
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Post by Eric Ares on Jun 30, 2008 20:08:30 GMT -5
VCW presents Crimson Dawn from the Louisiana Superdome in New Orleans, Louisiana
Bmore vs. Bright
Minutes to Midnight Match for the VCW Sanguine Championship Andrew Carpenter vs. Anon Ehmus vs. Cain Ravid vs. Chris Austin vs. Gregory Best vs. Mortus *
Triple Threat Match Captain Courage vs. iSav vs. the Great Nodnarb *
Mystery Misfit Challenge Drew Michaels vs. Random Misfit *
Craig Christ vs. Romeo McCoy
Fatal Fourway Match for the VCW World Heavyweight Championship Eric Ares vs. Sir Feyd Brisbane vs. Magnum vs. Thomas Hookton
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Post by Eric Ares on Jul 1, 2008 4:14:22 GMT -5
Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls it is now time to prepare for the single most coated in awesome sauce promo you have ever experienced. This promo is ten thousand to the power of your mom guaranteed to be worthy of giving Mr. Ares the VCW Heavyweight Title. In fact there is almost no reason to waste this promo on your unworthy eyes since everyone already knows Mr. Ares is the greatest thing since peanuts were mixed with jam, but since he is far too generous you are all going to get to see it anyway. Bow down bitches, BOW DOW..... “Enough” But Mr. Ares, you always told me to and I quote “Pimp your promos like a pimp pimps his hoes”.... “Not this time, Billy.” But... “NOT THIS TIME!” ..... “This time we do something a little different. People want to know Eric Ares? Well it’s time for them to know who I was before I became the god of war in this god forsaken sport I love so much.” xXx Click. .... “Hey, it’s me.” .... “We need to meet” .... “I don’t give a fuck how busy you are, you owe me this much...bro.” .... “I’ll call you whatever I damned well please, now will you or will you not meet me at the usual place.” .... “Alright, see you at ten.” .... “Fine, tell them I love them too....you douche.” .... Click. xXx “You around tonight Billy?” I stand and wait for a response, but none comes, good he actually listened without threatening his mom this time. God if I need to sleep with that woman one more time I may cut my own damned penis off to save it the horror. If he wasn’t such a damned good narrator I’d find a new lackey with a hotter mother. The wind of the Halifax harbour whips by me as I stand next to the old fort on top of the hill. This little piece of nostalgia is probably the only thing I actually like about this old home town of mine anymore. The rustic dwellings, the roar of the cannons, the sound of a hundred feet marching in tune. Fuck anyone who thinks I have an ego should look to the kings that built places like this. I just like to live my life, these guys, they were like Christ. They didn’t want followers or respect, they wanted an army. Still this place holds a fond cackle of my heart back in the day when me and the byes would come up here and wrestle outside the wall because mom and pop weren’t watchi.... Now’s not the time for those thoughts. I look out over the almost deserted streets for the person I am waiting for. No one else is out wandering the streets tonight, not unless they are pub crawling downtown. No, everywhere else is closed by now on Canada Day, the date of the country that spawned Eric Ares. How ironic that on today, the date this country began, the final preparation for my championship reign begins. How today that is supposed to symbolize something so great, can be the beginning of what some people might call evil. But I’m not evil, just misguided. Fuck, I’m even spewing that shit in my mind now. Fucking Austin and Feyd, and Michaels. Sure I’m evil, doesn’t mean I like the title though. It won’t matter once I am champion though, evil, good, they don’t mean shit if you are known as the best. Feyd, Hookton, Magnum, you three are all good there is no doubt, to have come this far. But you all have so many fatal flaws, all because you can’t set aside your good natures and do whatever needs to be done. But I guess that is what I’ll call forshadowing, because unless I am mistake I don’t have time for this kind of thinking anymore. There he is, coming up from the downtown area. God I hope he’s not drunk, I need his hick ass sober for what I want. As he gets closer his features start to become clear. The dirty blonde hair, the piercing blue eyes, there is no mistaken who the man is by the time he reaches the top of the hill. Alex O’Rion. Dressed in his trademarked blue jeans and O’Rions T-Shirt the FMW legend crosses the street and stops a pace away from me, not that I blame him things didn’t go well last time we met six years ago. “So you finally wanted to meet then bye?” the slightly shorter FMW wrestler says. I haven’t seen him in so long. People always mentioned I look a lot like him but I blew it off. Seeing him now for the first time in a while, it’s hard to miss the resemblance. “I figured six years was long enough ole training partner ole pal.” I say with my trademark smirk. “Listen Eric, we are many things, but I’m not your pal anymore.” He says his voice barely below a growl. I guess the rumours of him slowly losing his mind in FMW might be true. “Yeah, I guess I lost that way back when, what did I do again?” I ask still smiling. He looks at me with disbelief. “You fuckin’ smashed Adrian in the head with a baseball bat! He was never the same after that, fuck bye, if I had proof I would fucking kill you for making him into what he is now!” he screams at me, his voice carrying quite a ways in this almost deserted area of town. “Good times” I say with a chuckle as I turn and walk down the sidewalk, I wave a hand for him to follow but don’t look back, if you don’t know that’s not my style by now you never will Alex. After a moment his shadow catches up to mine and I see him fall into step next to me out of the corner of my eye. “Let’s cut the shyte right now” he says “What do you want from me?” “I have questions that I can only get answered by you....bye.” “Don’t mock me asshole or I won’t be so quick to help you. What do you want to know so I remember not to tell you.” He says trying to shake me. Silly Alex, verbal banters for me, not rabbits. “I’m sure you’ll help me, you’re mom and dad would be mad if you didn’t.” “Their y....” “No, they are not. Anyway what I wanted answered can’t be asked here, follow me.” I say as I speed up forcing him to keep pace, he grumbles but follows a step behind. Know you’re place bitch, always a step behind me. God I really am this conceded aren’t I? xXx I tighten the tape around my wrist and slap the fist into my other open palm. For the first time in a very very long time I am nervous about a match. This is probably the match that will define the rest of my career, and the one I have looked forward to like no other. This is my match to win. I grab hold of my gym bag of my gym bag and pull out a dog eared picture. Believe what you want about me people, but even I have precious items to me. Oh noes, Eric Ares has a soul! Wtflolbbq! Ha! I can even make thinking in bullshit internetesse look better than Dunn ever could before he died or committed peckerless suicide or something. I carry the picture out with me, it’s my inspiration, my reason this match needs to be won. I step out into the arena with my normal rush awaiting the boos of the crowd, the hate they spew from their filthy little mouths as I walk to another victory. But this time there is no crowd, no entrance music, no pyro. No there is a ring in a rundown little gym. All the equipment is covered in dust and off to the side hangs a banger. “Pride of NS Gym – Home of the O’Rions” it reads what fucking bullshit. Just because those three little shits were proud to be here they don’t need to be fucking advertised. I trained here too, where’s my plaque! WHERE THE FUCK IS MY RESPECT! I turn away from the banner before I vomit and look back towards the ring. For a moment I see the place as it used to be, tens of late teens to early thirty year olds working out and practicing drills while two spar in the ring. I see a younger me pairing off with a younger version of the man standing in the ring. Alex O’Rion. Fucking O’Rions. I look down at the picture one more time and crack a smirk. Yes, this is my match to win. I walk over and place the picture down next to the ring post and roll into the ring. Alex is standing there dressed in his wrestling gear, just as I am, as he stares at me impassively. “You really want to do this?” He asks, scepticism dripping from his voice. “I have to.” “Why?” “Because I need to know.” “Eric that was six years ago, lots of things have changed.” “And some stay the same; I need to know I am better than I was. Now are you going to prattle on like an old bitch drunk on that moose piss you pass for beer? Or are you going to be a man and start doing this sport that could be categorized as gay porn and wrestle me?” I ask with the same know it all smirk I always use when I want to instigate something. You didn’t think I just smiled all the time for a lark did you? The man nods and begins to circle, typical good guy fashion. You talk big game but you don’t ever attack directly at the outset, you need to be “forced” into it. I think he forgot I don’t have the same problem as I tackle him to the mat his eyes full of surprise. I get the mount position and begin to try and lay elbows down onto his head, but his years of bar brawling have given him damned near impossible defence against that. After a moment I get up and try to kick him while he’s down but he scrambles out of the way and crawls back to his feet. “Nice try bye, but you’re gonna have to do better than that if you want to beat me” he says with a mirrored smirk as he begins to circle again. “Oh go shove your arrogance up Theresa’s cunt, you want better I’ll give you better!” I snarl as I rush forward and watch as he prepares to catch me. He goes to grab me but I stop an inch or so from his reach and try to tag him with a punch to the temple. He blocks with his one free arm and throws a punch of his own. I block with my other arm and we begin to push on one another in a test of strength. He starts to push harder and I find myself hard pressed to keep him from shoving me down so I push my weight backwards and throw a knee right to his midsection. The impact drives the wind from his chest as he bends over coughing, taking the chance I grab his head and plant him with a DDT. Normally I’d follow this up, but right now I take more pleasure in watching him struggle in pain to get back up. Besides he can’t answer my questions if he’s out. “Nice shot” he coughs as he stands back up. I don’t even respond, I try to catch him with a lariat but he ducks under it and grabs the back of my head, pulling me down with a neck breaker. Fuck that stings a little bit. He gets up and waits until I get back up holding my neck. “But my shot was better” he says smirking now. “Grandma O’Rion probably pulled your little wee-wee harder when you were younger than you pulled my neck right now. So I’ll say no.” “You son of a bitch” he snarls as he charges right at me. I try to dodge away but he just spears me to the mat and begins to lay into my face with punches. I try to cover up but you need to understand one thing about the fucking O’Rottens, they love to fight anyway they can, and they have practiced a damn long time to do it. So trying to stop his punches is never an easy thing to do. Suddenly a hook goes past my arm and catches me right on the cheek. I feel my lip cut as a coppery taste floods my mouth. At the sight of blood O’Rion stops and hops up, offering his hand to me. “Sorry bye, guess I got a little carried away.” He says in that sickeningly sincere apologetic way all good guys sound like when they make a mistake. Like they accidently kicked the puppy and the puppy will understand they are very very oh so very fucking sorry. I slap his hand away and push myself back to my feet. He looks at me for a moment then goes and grabs a bottle of water signalling a break, before coming back over to me. “Why do you find it so fucking hard to accept help from me?” “Because you are who you are Alex.” “Jesus Christ we used to be friends, hell we used to be b...” “We USED to be a lot of things Alex, and we aren’t now, funny how life works isn’t it.” “Why can’t you ever let us help you dammit!” “Because of how fucking arrogant you are, you self centered son of a bitch!” I scream at the almost legend of e-feds everywhere and classic good guy. “All my fucking life growing up here in Halifax all I ever heard in the wrestling scene was about the mother fucking O’Rions. How the great fucking trinity of Alex, Andrew, and Adrian we’re destined for great things. How they were world champs in the making, how fucking amazing the really were. No matter where I went whether it was home, school, here, all I ever heard was people fucking talking about you three. I am so very fucking SICK of hearing about the O’Rions. Eric Ares is the greatest thing to ever come out of this city, people need to wake up and smell the mother fucking ruffied coffee. The O’Rions were never that fucking great, I’m the fucking hero they should worship, not some flunkies whose greatest accomplishment was making all of downtown a fucking bar brawl.” He looks at me with a cross between anger and understanding on his face as the words begin to sink in. Despite appearances Alex O’Rion is not a stupid man, it only takes him a moment to cut to the center of my rant. “Why....why do you hate what we’ve done so much? Why do you hate us?” “BECAUSE I WAS A FUCKING O’RION TOO!” my scream echoes throughout the empty abandoned gym for moments before all that can be heard is my own laboured breathing. Alex opens and closes his mouth a few times trying to speak, but I cut him off before he can. “You happy now you fucking bastard. All of this, my wrestling career, my dominance of VCW, has all been because of you mother fucking asshats. All that someday the name Eric Ares would be fucking mentioned in the same breath as you fuckers who came before me. It won’t be Eric fucking O’Rion, because that fucking KID that left here six years ago cursing your household is dead. He was dead when your family picked him up off the streets because his fucking whore of a mother couldn’t afford another mouth to feed. He fucking ROTTED while growing up in your shadows. Now I am Eric Ares, the fucking wrestling god of war. I chose the name Ares when I left this place because that’s what I am now. I am fucking war against you, against the O’Rions, against wrestling, against fucking everything. This entire fucking planet used me while I was left alone with your family, they forgot me while I laboured to be “That other O’Rion kid” so now I am going to burn it all down until the only name that ever mattered is Eric “I am better than you, your mother, your sister, and your hot aunt you wish you could score” Ares and the rest of you, are distant memories. That is why I WILL be champion. Because this fucking world WILL know my name, as it’s champion. But before that I need to know I am the best, and you are the only one who came close to beating me. That is why I WILL win this match first.” I slowly get back into a combat stance as he puts his bottle down. There are hundreds of words, thousands really; we could use to say what needs to be said, to understand each other. But those types of words don’t suit us, we are fighters this is what we do. We both begin to circle this time and the dance begins anew. He strikes first, but it doesn’t matter I strike back. He nails a kick, I nail a punch. DDT, Suplex. He bleeds, I bleed. He hurts, I hurt. Around and around the dance goes with neither of us giving an inch. Seconds turn to minutes, minutes turn to an hour, and still both of us fight on, neither willing to give that inch that separates victory from defeat. I have been called many things, but a quitter is not one of them. We go round and round matching step for step for another second, another century, who fucking knows, who even cares right now. This is all there is for me, I need to know I can be the best. We break apart again, both of us gasping for air, and he looks straight in my eyes and nods. I do the same because the time has come for us to know who will be the better man. He comes forward, as do I and we both throw our signature move at the same time. NS Pride Eric Ares Greatest Hits. Both connect, and both men fall. I almost black out from the pain and injuries. I lie on the mat and stare up at the banner hanging above, and for a moment I can almost see it. “Pride of NS Gym – Home of Eric Ares and the O’Rions” hanging high above me. That idea as stupid as it seems forces me to move my worn out muscles and begin to pull myself up on the ropes. I look over and see Alex beginning to do the same. It’s a snails pace race to the top as we both begin to climb, each rope, each breath an agony all it’s own. But neither of us stops. Suddenly I am standing, I don’t know how I am up but as I look over I see Alex coming off the ropes and standing on his own as well. I smile. “I win” I say, simple as that, I found out what I needed to. He doesn’t say anything, he just rolls from the ring and walks towards the locker room. There is nothing left to say, I still hate him and everything his family stands for. And him. He’s gotten better at losing brothers. I watch him go before I walk back to my corner and reach down, pulling up the faded picture and looking at it again. Standing there are Alex O’Rion and myself both six years younger and both holding onto a title that says “NS Pride Gym Champion”. Adrian and Andrew are congratulating Alex, but me and him are scowling at each other in the picture, trying to pull the belt over to us. This was the day I left, the day I stopped being Eric O’Rion the unwanted son of a whore and adopted son of the O’Rions, and began the journey to become Eric Ares. The day when me and Alex tied the final match and had to share the championship. The same day they awarded it to Alex because he was an O’Rion and only one person could have it. God it seems so long ago. But now I know I can beat Alex, and there is no one to share this belt with this time. Eric O’Rion is dead. Long live Eric Ares, VCW Champion. I drop the picture and walk from the gym and into my destiny. xXx “Jesus Christ I’m glad that one is over. I hate these looks into my past promos the most” Stressful Sir? “Yes Jimbo” It’s Billy sir. “Whatever Chucky, you know what to do” Very good sir. Thomas Hookton. You are the most pathetic excuse for a wrestler I have ever seen, you probably think the sleeper is a sexual position where you choke your cheap excuse for a Russian bought whore of a wife. You have no right to even breathe let alone become champion, please kindly do the average thing and commit an average suicide via whatever average means your below average apelike intelligence can think up for you so that Mr. Ares doesn’t get charged with murder in the ring. Magnum. Your being named after a brand of condoms was obviously a very cruel joke played on you as it is also obvious that you have never touched, smelt, felt, or even seen a naked female with the exception of what you can see through the scrambled channels on your eighties throw back television. You cannot become champion because quite honestly we believe there is a high probability that you fuck goats, and we do not need VCW’s champion to be a goat fucker. Feyd Brisbane. You lost to Ares, therefore your mother sucks cocks in hell. Also it is obvious the better parts of you got left on your mothers face after your crack addicted father was too slow pulling out. Good day. “Well played Skippy” Thank you sir. “What you didn’t all think I was going to stay serious all the time. Fuck this is still an Eric Ares promo and your mothers are still all whores, it’s my duty to point that out. Anyway Feyd, Thomas, Mag. There is a reason I have been undefeated till now. Because this is what I need, it is what validates my entire existence and I will not be denied. My name is Eric Ares, and while you won’t admit I am better than you, I WILL be champion!”
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Post by Onkar Sammael on Jul 1, 2008 4:49:47 GMT -5
Bright
Mortus
Triple Threat Match the Great Nodnarb
Mystery Misfit Challenge Drew Michaels
Craig Christ
Fatal Fourway Match for the VCW World Heavyweight Championship Thomas Hookton
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Post by Black Venom on Jul 1, 2008 4:52:33 GMT -5
Torrential rain is pouring down in Eureka, California at night, early morning to be precise. A hooded man walks down a street with the rain sliding down his hood. He is dressed entirely in black and looks extremely sinister. The camera follows him down a dark alleyway to meet a dishevelled looking and cold man. The mans starts to speak to the hooded guy.
Man#1: I’m fucking dripping wet bro, short me out this shit will ya?
Hooded man: …
Man#1: Come on man, hook me up that shit you know? I’m cold, tierd and I wana get high.
Hooded Man: …
Man#1: You know what? Fuck you, are fucking dumb or something? My bro said you could hook me up, said you had some good shit. You come here, I can’t see your face, you look like a freak and don’t say jack shit. Fucking freak on a leash!
The man suddenly stops. His mouth contorts into a look of pain and blood trickles out his mouth. He looks down to see a knife blade sticking out where his chest is.
Hooded man: …Sorry bro, not today.
The mans eyes roll back in his skull and he falls back dead. The hooded man removes his wallet and walks away.
The scene fades out.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cut to an abandoned apartment that is pitch black apart from a single church candle. The shadow of the hooded man is shown, illuminated by the light from the candle, it lingers against the wall. The hood looks more pointy and so do the mans fingers because of the warped light. It’s a rather disturbing figure, and the camera focuses on it only as the man begins to speak.
Hood: Did you forget me Drew? Have I passed from your memory? I WILL make you remember Drew, I will make you remember the pain of those years, the years we fort against or alongside each other. You will remember, and it will be a painful memory. I’m going to make you wish you’d stayed at Craig Christ’s side as Exodus.
The hooded man lights a cigarette.
Hood: I find it funny how you call yourself a righteous man and yet you allowed your “brothers” to virtually disappear. Whatever happened to Edible? TJ? What about me? What about…
The man grabs both his shoulders, and in one motion removes the cloak and hood that was covering him, revealing the long hair, stubbled face of Trey Spruance. Tattoos cover his upper body, one in particular on his left arm is of a dagger with black venom dripping off it, trickling down his arm. He is wearing black leather pants and heavy boots.
Trey: What about the dude? Well… Welly, well well. How far we’ve all come huh Drew? Oh wait, I meant YOU. While the rest of us might as well have died in a shallow grave you continue to walk the walk at the top of the tier, preaching good will and other such bull shit.
Trey starts to prowl around the dark, empty building smoking his cigarette and turning to talk to the camera every now and then.
Trey: But Drew, you see, I’m not even pissed. I have discovered a new side of myself. A deeper, darker side. I’m willing now to do whatever it takes to succeed. VCW huh? I’m only here because I got an invitation to kick your ass. I’m tired of seeing your name in lights while I wallow in shit, real tired. It’s my time now.
“The Thrill is Gone” by BB King starts playing.
Trey: Ah, you see, the thrill of following in your footsteps has all but completely evaporated. It’s time I put an end to our “brotherhood” brother. It is now you or I. I have waited for this moment, a chance to lash out at the source of my discomfort. It eats me at night knowing that you prevailed while the rest of us failed.
“The thrill is gone The thrill is gone away The thrill is gone baby The thrill is gone away You know you done me wrong baby And you'll be sorry someday”
Trey: Maybe if things had been different and the rest of us hadn’t disappeared into the ether we could have continued along, pretending that for a moment, that everything was okay, and that we really were a band of brothers looking out for each other. But it just doesn’t work like that in this world. Nobody really has your back, nobody has mine, and if they did, I’d have to turn around and stab them before they got to me. I’m not going to lie Drew, I know I’ve already lost. It’s not as if there’s not a reason why I, like Edible and TJ, got left behind. We can’t wrestle for shit. There’s no excuse for our poor output in the ring. I pride myself in hardcore wrestling because it’s all I really know. I don’t know much about what to do in a normal rules match, and that’s why I’ve only gotten this far.
Trey sits down again and puts out his cigarette on the floor.
“You know I'm free, free now baby I'm free from your spell I'm free, free now I'm free from your spell And now that it's over All I can do is wish you well”
Trey: I had to learn, like you too will do someday, that nobody is looking out for you. Nobody cares about anything but themselves. That is the sad life that we lead, that is how the world works.
Trey sighs.
Trey: It is with a heavy heart that I walk into this match up, knowing full well that my orders are to take you out, when all you have done is shown compassion and care for The Misfit brothers. But it is too late for me brother, I’m already too far gone…
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Post by Ro on Jul 1, 2008 9:17:46 GMT -5
The Diary of Pain Dear diary, Okay, it kind of felt faggoty to say that. Like I'm actually writing on something... this is nothing more but internal monologue. You know how emotions can actually cause physical pain? How psychological pain could actually lead to real, physical pain? Guess what, it really is true. You see, everything's really starting to get taken away from me. My well-being seemingly the least of these damn issues. I can't escape this pain, I can only dumb it down to a dull yet annoying throbbing. My wrestling ability's starting to lose itself, too. Or my wit, I should probably say. I can't rack up a damn win for the second straight time. At the height of my career... I was damn near unbeatable. Until the headache showed up. But enough about that. I lost to a masked Mexican... oh, I'm sorry, "Aztec Warrior" in a damned impromptu match. Damn Craig Christ. I don't know if I could blame the fact that "I was caught off-guard" and I know I couldn't, because I challenged him. And the "Warrior" beat me by lungblowering me through the announcer's table. Many people can't say that they could get up from that. And I didn't. Then I thought. Since when did I start becoming like many people? I was supposed to be one of a kind, I was supposed to be a wrestling genius, I was supposed to put out wrestling clinics every time I went in the ring, be it amateur or professional, I still did it... and now, the only thing that sets me apart from everyone else is this damn... constant... pain... inside my head. This is not the way I want to define myself. My life up until that point was one of a man who broke through a lot. I transcended the sport. I was king. Now I'm left as a... jobber. To chicanos who think he's the next Aztec Jesus, and an insane General Manager who actually believes he's Jesus. But this is the wonderful thing about life, I learned. People get second chances. Everyone gets a second chance. Even someone like me. And this is my second chance against Craig Christ. The Filipinos have a saying that goes something like, "God feels compassion, but men do the work." Basically it means, I get the chance, the break, the opportunity, and it is up to ME to make it happen, not fate, not God, not Allah, not Buddha, not even Eric Ares. And I WILL make it happen. Craig Christ. Crimson Dawn will be the beginning of your end. After I'm done with you... I'm letting Drew and the man who calls himself "The Coming" have you. And nothing can stop us, nothing can stop those who found it in their hearts to oppose you. Not you, not your lackey Fuego Mistico, not any henchmen you choose to hire. That is what will happen.
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Post by Ro on Jul 1, 2008 9:20:15 GMT -5
Bmore vs. Bright
Minutes to Midnight Match for the VCW Sanguine Championship Andrew Carpenter vs. Anon Ehmus vs. Cain Ravid vs. Chris Austin vs. Gregory Best vs. Mortus
Triple Threat Match Captain Courage vs. iSav vs. the Great Nodnarb
Mystery Misfit Challenge Drew Michaels vs. Random Misfit
Craig Christ vs. Romeo McCoy
Fatal Fourway Match for the VCW World Heavyweight Championship Eric Ares vs. Sir Feyd Brisbane vs. Magnum vs. Thomas Hookton
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Post by Sir Feyd Brisbane on Jul 1, 2008 10:04:21 GMT -5
Bmore vs. Bright
Minutes to Midnight Match for the VCW Sanguine Championship Andrew Carpenter vs. Anon Ehmus vs. Cain Ravid vs. Chris Austin vs. Gregory Best vs. Mortus
Triple Threat Match Captain Courage vs. iSav vs. the Great Nodnarb
Mystery Misfit Challenge Drew Michaels vs. Random Misfit
Craig Christ vs. Romeo McCoy
Fatal Fourway Match for the VCW World Heavyweight Championship Eric Ares vs. Sir Feyd Brisbane vs. Magnum vs. Thomas Hookton
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Mr. Thomas Hookton
Lower Midcarder
If Heaven Rides Against Us, Then Gods Be Damned
Posts: 117
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Post by Mr. Thomas Hookton on Jul 1, 2008 21:04:20 GMT -5
Bmore vs. Bright
Minutes to Midnight Match for the VCW Sanguine Championship Andrew Carpenter vs. Anon Ehmus vs. Cain Ravid vs. Chris Austin vs. Gregory Best vs. Mortus
Triple Threat Match Captain Courage vs. iSav vs. the Great Nodnarb
Mystery Misfit Challenge Drew Michaels vs. Random Misfit
Craig Christ vs. Romeo McCoy
Fatal Fourway Match for the VCW World Heavyweight Championship Eric Ares vs. Sir Feyd Brisbane vs. Magnum vs. Thomas Hookton
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Post by mediocremike on Jul 2, 2008 0:29:05 GMT -5
Bmore vs. Bright
Minutes to Midnight Match for the VCW Sanguine Championship Andrew Carpenter vs. Anon Ehmus vs. Cain Ravid vs. Chris Austin vs. Gregory Best vs. Mortus
Triple Threat Match Captain Courage vs. iSav vs. the Great Nodnarb
Mystery Misfit Challenge Drew Michaels vs. Random Misfit
Craig Christ vs. Romeo McCoy
Fatal Fourway Match for the VCW World Heavyweight Championship Eric Ares vs. Sir Feyd Brisbane vs. Magnum vs. Thomas Hookton
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